Immaculate Deception
by PK Lil
Summary: In a bitter game of revenge, Scorpius and Crais battle for Peacekeeper approval and their own personal glory.
1. Chapter One — Revenge Motive

TITLE: Immaculate Deception  
  
AUTHOR: JLGuidry, "PK Lil"  
  
RATING: PG-13, Mature themes, language, mild violence.   
  
DISCLAIMER: Farscape is the sole property of Henson, Inc., Rockne S. O'Bannon,   
et al. This work of fiction is in no way meant to infringe their copyright.  
  
NOTES: This is an abridged version of an original novel that made the rounds—  
unsuccessfully—of several agents who wanted no part of such genre fiction. Now   
it is relegated to "fan fiction" and presented here for the enjoyment of   
Farscape fans.  
  
ARCHIVE: -- This story may NOT be archived or included in part or in whole on   
any site.  
  
  
Immaculate Deception  
Chapter One — Revenge Motive  
Prologue:  
  
The twin suns of the Peacekeeper home system were just breaking over the   
horizon of the planet Kordaen. Their golden light teased at the edges of   
buildings but brought little warmth. It was the first month of the cold season,   
a time for revelry and joy among Sebaceans. They would flock here from all over   
the planet and down from ships in orbit to take part in the celebration.  
  
  
  
High Command Square was quickly becoming a morass of smells, sounds and   
sights. Dozens of food, drink and amusement kiosks were setting up to display   
their wares. Garish decorations were already strewn across every available   
surface. Musicians were practicing their art in a growing cacophony. The red,   
black and white standards of all resident Directorates and Divisions were being   
raised to the tops of masts. They fluttered and snapped with the freshening   
morning wind.  
  
  
  
The spindly figure standing outside the main complex of High Command   
scrutinized the preparations silently. With his slick, black thermal regulator   
suit, he was as out of place as the carnival festivities in this megaplex of   
towering buildings. His wrinkled gray face, framed by the rubbery mask of his   
thermic cowl, was menacing with its complete lack of expression. The steely eyes   
missed nothing however, darting sharply as they took in the Square.  
  
  
He did not feel joy or the need to revel. He was instead filled with a   
sense of foreboding and dread. His future in the Special Research Directorate   
could very well be decided today.  
  
  
  
Scorpius knew instinctively that his proposal stood little chance with   
First Council. Despite the backing of SRD and the potential of wormhole   
technology in the coming war with the Scarrans and Nebari, he knew he would   
fail. His very existence doomed him to failure. Not Sebacean and not Scarran, he   
was some abominable fusion of the two.   
  
  
  
The Peacekeeper military machine—despite its unwavering devotion to racial   
purity—allowed him to live. It kept him on like some reviled lab animal, giving   
one microt only to take back the next. Why had they allowed him to live? It was   
a question that haunted the empty arns of his nights as he lay awake filled with   
memories.   
  
  
  
Memories of his mother and father—and make no mistake, they were memories,   
not stories he had been told—filled him with shame and rage. The curse of being   
half Scarran meant that he possessed certain psionic abilities. The worst of   
which, of course, was being aware of events even before his conception.   
Thoughts, emotions, reactions of his Sebacean mother and Scarran father poured   
into his mind unbidden. Hence most nights were spent in a futile search for   
dreamless sleep.  
  
  
  
Admiral Neleu EL-Vashti had been quick to react when he discovered   
Scorpius' existence.  
  
  
The official Peacekeeper line stated that only through racial purity could   
a cohesive military force be maintained. Scorpius often wondered if the edict   
was inspired by fear. It was a proven fact that Sebacean DNA was so malleable it   
allowed for easy conception with any number of alien species. Either way, it   
was a taboo subject, even among scientists. The laws against contact with   
unclassified aliens existed. To question was to risk punishment or worse.  
  
  
  
He was immediately placed under the protection of Admiral EL-Vashti,   
commander of the armada served by his first benefactor, Captain Molayne. EL-  
Vashti personally petitioned First Council for his safety. What a unique   
opportunity to study their enemy, the Scarrans, he argued. As the hero of the   
recently ended Scarran Wars, he was a force to be reckoned with. In the end,   
First Council ordered SRD to take Scorpius for extensive research.  
  
  
Despite his physical turmoil, in his forty cycles with SRD he came to   
realize he was an undeniable asset to defense research. Without his help, most   
advances in mutanagenic poisons, viral agents and mapping the neural patterns of   
multiple species would never have been possible.  
  
  
  
Scorpius' rise to the higher echelons of the Directorate was due solely to   
this genius. Despite his loyalty and EL-Vashti's patronage he remained a pariah,   
even among his fellow scientists. They feared and loathed him far more than they   
could ever admire his work. He was tolerated for what he might achieve for the   
Peacekeepers, nothing more. This was a fact not lost on him.  
  
  
  
The promise of sanction for his wormhole project had been assured at   
first. Then, his sources relayed information of another proposal from a   
decorated captain, the commander of an armada of prison ships. Scorpius' hope   
for recognition and acceptance began to fade with this news. He did not know   
Bialar Crais, but any pure Sebacean would stand a greater chance of selection by   
First Council over him. Peacekeeper narrow-mindedness demanded it.  
  
  
  
When his sources discovered that his rival was a first genner—a Sebacean   
whose family was not originally a member of the Peacekeeper military, had no   
formal House or name—his blood boiled. To be passed over for the lowest of the   
low was an insult he was sure he could not bear. Even House Jeema—his mother's—  
had long been on the Peacekeeper rolls. But, cruel fact though it was,   
Peacekeeper Houses were patrilineal. One's father made or broke who one was.  
  
  
  
"Scorpius, they have called for you," his aide, Niem told him softly.  
  
  
  
So caught up in his own thoughts, he hadn't sensed her approach. He turned   
to face the pale woman, giving her a nod and half-hearted smile. He glanced once   
more at the twin suns before entering the building.  
  
  
  
As he strode into the main chamber, Niem at his side, a large entourage of   
commandos burst outward through First Council's doors. They cleared the way like   
an honor guard for the officer leaving his audience with the Council. Scorpius   
studied him coldly. He was darker than most Sebacean males, slightly shorter and   
stouter. His long hair was pulled into a queue in much the same way as   
Peacekeeper females wore theirs. Scorpius remembered Admiral EL-Vashti donning   
much the same queue. An uncommon affectation, to be sure.  
  
  
  
The five rank bars on the cuff of his right sleeve indicated he was a   
captain. The fleet badge on his chest meant he was from the armada, a command   
carrier group called Mhultaan. So, smiled Scorpius bitterly, this was the much   
heralded Bialar Crais. He watched as the captain donned his garrison cap with a   
stiff flourish and straightened his impeccable uniform. A fop, but a popular one   
with High Command and First Council evidently, Scorpius seethed.  
  
  
  
Their eyes met fleetingly. Scorpius' smile gave nothing away to his rival,   
but inside his Scarran half growled its fury. Crais dismissed him with one   
lifted eyebrow and harsh frown. He had immediately underestimated Scorpius, as   
did most Sebaceans. Crais' aides helped him into his bulky, red and black   
uniform great coat. After the last buckle was fastened he spun on his heel and   
left the building. The entire escort pivoted in unison to follow their captain,   
a precise display of military pomp.  
  
  
  
Scorpius chuckled at the ludicrousness of it all.  
  
  
  
"The competition," Niem said quietly as she stood only denches from his   
right arm, her customary position.  
  
  
  
"Such as it is," he replied, smiling warmly at her.  
  
  
  
She wasn't convinced by his false pluckiness and it showed.  
  
  
  
"I know," he whispered, patting her affectionately on the shoulder. "We   
will do our best as always."  
  
  
  
She nodded silently, following him in to face the First Council.   
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
The chamber was smaller than he had expected and less formal. It seemed   
little more than a large conference room. A crescent shaped table dominated the   
dais at the rear of the room, around which the seven admirals of First Council   
sat. He looked up at them with a twinge of awe. This was the ruling body of the   
known universe. These seven Peacekeeper admirals had fought their way through   
innumerable wars, avoided the subterfuge and back stabbing inherent to the   
higher echelons of the service and now made decisions that effected trillions.   
They were legends in their own time.  
  
  
The majority were members of the Founding Four families—those Sebacean   
Houses responsible for forming the Peacekeeper Alliance centuries before. Sillu   
Menkena, Feylan Durka, Certh Rotharn, and even Vrakiish EL-Vashti, younger   
brother to Scorpius' unlikely savior.  
  
  
  
Scorpius was saddened but not surprised by their disapproval. It swept   
down upon him like thorns ripping into sensitive skin. He knew there was   
precious little he might say to deflect their repugnance at his mere existence.   
He felt himself growing hotter and knew it would soon be time for Niem to change   
the cooling rod in his head. Nerves and the excitement of the day were making   
him overheat. He consciously took deeper breaths, trying to prolong the time   
before the cooling apparatus would burst forth from the side of his head. He   
would not give First Council the pleasure of seeing his one weakness.  
  
  
  
"You may proceed, Scorpius," Admiral Sillu Menkena, the Council's Primary,   
advised him sternly. Her lean, scarred face telegraphed her emotions so well he   
had no need to extend his Scarran senses to scan her. Those cold, gray eyes told   
him she would squash him like an insect if given the chance.  
  
  
  
"Thank you, venerable Council members," he smiled, bowing respectfully. He   
ignored the scalding wave of disgust pouring down upon him, turning instead to   
his presentation.  
  
  
  
He signaled to Niem. She activated a holographic imager causing the   
likeness of a wormhole to coalesce in the center of the chamber. It bathed   
everyone and everything with an unnatural blue radiance. The image shifted,   
coiled and moved like a serpent.  
  
  
  
"This is a wormhole," Scorpius began. "Simply stated, it is an   
artificially created passage that can bridge the distances of space. In effect,   
it folds these distances in much the same manner Leviathans do with their native   
starburst maneuver. However, unlike starburst, wormhole technology can be   
controlled. It would provide safe and rapid transit into any position we choose,   
thus cutting passage time from many solar days to a matter of microts.  
  
  
  
"Additionally, there is the distinct possibility that it can serve another   
purpose. With the proper research, it can be used as a powerful weapon."   
Scorpius motioned to Niem and the image swiftly changed. A holographic planet   
formed in the center of the chamber.  
  
  
  
"With the correct calculations, there is every possibility a wormhole   
could be caused to manifest in such a way that its proximity to a planet would   
prove cataclysmic."  
  
  
  
As he spoke his words were illustrated with great force by the holographic   
image. A massive wormhole formed within the planet's orbit. Shortly afterward,   
the planet's shape began to deform, folding in on itself before collapsing all   
together. What remained of the planet splintered into billions of fragments as   
the wormhole shrank and disappeared. The murmurs of the Council members made   
Scorpius' expectations leap.  
  
  
  
"Impressive, to be sure," said Admiral Menkena. "However, your   
presentation has one major recurring theme: research. Can this technology be   
implemented now should the fleet require it?"  
  
  
  
"As with all scientific projects," Scorpius began only to be silenced by   
Menkena.  
  
  
  
"Can it?" she barked. "This requires only one word from you: yes or no."  
  
  
  
"I haven't yet succeeded in creating a wormhole, however…"  
  
  
  
"Then we must take it your answer is no." Menkena continued, drowning out   
his calm, respectful voice.  
  
  
  
"Given the proper facilities and time for research, the possibilities of   
this technology are limitless." Scorpius argued more insistently, still careful   
to pitch his voice in softer tones.  
  
  
  
"Enough," Menkena shouted, her hand raised in an unmistakable signal   
demanding his silence. "Your proposal will be taken into consideration. You are   
dismissed."  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You must eat something, Scorpius," Niem chided as she held the small   
plate filled with tempting delicacies before him. "Depriving your most basic   
needs can only aggravate the thermic constancy problem."  
  
  
  
He shook his head slightly, eyes focused somewhere in the middle distance   
outside. The large windows of the conference chamber afforded a panoramic view   
of the gathering revelers and festivities in High Command Square. His face was   
motionless, but his eyes darted, taking in everything in the carnival forming   
outside.  
  
  
  
"At least drink this prowsa nectar," she insisted, holding the small glass   
out to him.  
  
  
  
Without looking at her, he extended his hand, taking the drink and downing   
it in a single gulp. He placed the emptied glass on the arm of his chair and   
waved her away with a minute flick of his hand. She bowed respectfully,   
gathering the glass and food tray before leaving him alone to his thoughts.  
  
  
  
He hadn't spoken a word since his dismissal from First Council's chamber   
nearly twelve arns earlier. There was nothing to say. Obviously the delay in   
announcing their decision was gratuitous. Their reaction to his presentation   
told him all he needed to know. Crais' project, whatever it was, would be   
selected to receive the financial and manpower support of High Command.  
  
  
  
Fools, Scorpius thought irately. Long range tacticians agreed that the   
threat of war from both the Scarrans and the Nebari was indeed real. However,   
best estimates predicted at least a three or four cycle delay before any actual   
aggression from either race. More than adequate time to finish his research and   
implement the wormhole technology.  
  
  
  
Typical soldiers, thinking only of bigger guns. If his guess was correct,   
Crais' project would involve more formidable frag cannons on larger command   
carriers. Crais was a fleet soldier and a first genner. What else could his   
limited brainpower imagine? First Council was no better. When all was said and   
done they were merely highborn, military-minded imbeciles.  
  
  
  
The last time he felt this disgusted with Peacekeeper hierarchy, he was a   
young and bitter twenty cycles old. He took a leave of absence from SRD because   
he could not face another moment among his disdainful peers. Striking out into   
the Uncharted Territories without plan or purpose, he wasn't entirely sure what   
he was seeking. He was adrift outside the Peacekeeper world into which he'd been   
brutally accepted. The experience, he now knew, shaped his future in ways he   
could never have imagined at the time.  
  
  
  
When his marauder was stranded on Geljesh VI, the planet's hot atmosphere   
nearly cost him his life. A serendipitous encounter with a beautiful young thief   
changed his existence forever. For once another being did not shrink from him in   
repulsion. Natira welcomed him into her arms and her bed with a passion   
previously unknown to him. She inspired emotions and desires he never realized   
existed within himself. Their relationship was an epiphany.  
  
  
  
When her criminal past brought Peacekeeper justice down upon her head,   
Scorpius intervened, saving her life. In gratitude she introduced him to a   
brilliant diagnosan capable of solving his perilous thermic constancy   
predicament. Surgeon Tocot conceived and installed an ingenious cooling   
apparatus inside Scorpius' cranium, affording him a new freedom of existence.   
  
  
  
For more than a cycle, Natira shared her bed and her life with him. In   
turn, Scorpius brought her along in his travels. With her vast network of   
connections, he made contacts that would prove invaluable later in his career   
with SRD. He mapped regions of what the Peacekeepers called the Uncharted   
Territories. He discovered resources and habitable planets and moons where   
staging bases could be erected.  
  
  
  
When he was practically certain he would call the emotions he felt for her   
love, Natira betrayed him. In the Mantora system, it came down to a choice of   
continuing their lives together or joining the crew of a mercenary ship. Visions   
of limitless fortune danced before her eyes and Natira chose the latter. He had   
been filled with such rage he nearly murdered her in their bed, but stopped   
short. His life thus far had taught him the priceless gift of patience. Fate   
assured that a time and place would come for every eventuality. She would be   
repaid one day for her treachery.  
  
  
  
Having lost his innocence, Scorpius returned to SRD with his wealth of   
information and resources. While it could not buy the friendship of his   
colleagues, they were far more appreciative of his abilities. The respect he   
gained was payment enough. Like everything else, he filed it in his repository   
of tools for building his future.  
  
  
  
He heard the door to the chamber hiss as it opened. Niem's soft footfalls   
approached and he finally tore himself from the carnival outside the windows. He   
crossed his arms over his chest and slowly turned his chair to face her.  
  
  
  
"Their decision is in," Scorpius breathed, his voice little more than a   
whisper and his gaunt face a blank.  
  
  
  
"Yes, Scorpius." Niem replied, head cocked to one side. Her expression was   
pained and told him his fears were justified. She bowed her head to hide her   
face as if sensing his thoughts, but it was too late.  
  
  
  
"Captain Crais is the beneficiary of First Council's largesse." He said.  
  
  
  
"Yes," she answered, gripping herself with her leather-clad arms as if she   
were cold.  
  
  
  
"Not much of a surprise," he laughed bitterly.  
  
  
  
"The research can continue. Must continue." Niem reasoned bending down   
onto one knee beside his chair. "Surely they see that."  
  
  
  
He looked fondly into her beautiful face, one that had only ever regarded   
him with kindness. She was not a Sebacean. With gentle fingers he stroked her   
fine red hair.  
  
  
  
"Without the financial and manpower support only First Council can   
apportion to SRD, we can take the project no further." He told her evenly.  
  
  
  
"There must be other channels," she pressed. "Another way to proceed."  
  
  
  
He smiled at her earnest devotion. Lacing long gloved fingers in front of   
his face he said, "I will find a way. It will be a very long road, but I will   
find a way."  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Has Captain Crais returned to the Mhultaan yet?" Scorpius asked Niem as   
they came out of the main building on to High Command Square. They crossed it   
with difficulty, dodging drunken Sebaceans in garish costumes. The air was thick   
with the aromas of decadent foods, fellip nectar, prowsa wine and ras'lak.  
  
  
  
"No." She replied, her long legs making it easy to keep up with his rapid   
strides. "Central Communications says he's still here on Kordaen. In fact, he's   
staying on for three solar days to attend the carnival festivities. He's even   
granted shore leave to his command staff and half his prowler and marauder   
divisions. Only a single rear battle squadron remains on duty."  
  
  
  
"Perfect." Scorpius laughed derisively and shook his head.  
  
  
  
Raucous music blasted around them as a line of half-naked dancers of both   
sexes snaked their way across the Square. Glittering confetti showered them and   
fireworks boomed overhead flaring red, blue, green and white in the twilight   
sky. The revelers gasped, cheered and applauded wildly. Scorpius shook his head   
in disgust at the ridiculous display. The Square would be hip deep in refuse and   
vomit by morning.  
  
  
  
After much jostling and detouring, they came to the transit station.   
Forced to elbow through lines of arriving revelers, they made their way to the   
departure platform. Niem slid her ident chip into the terminal and keyed in the   
destination code for SRD's main complex. After a quarter of an arn, an automated   
shuttle car slid to a stop beside them.  
  
  
Scorpius motioned for her to enter first. He followed, locking the portal   
behind him. They sat side by side, securing their restraining straps. With a nod   
from Scorpius, Niem pressed a button on the control console. The shuttle's   
engines roared to life, causing it to lurch forward. It shot upward suddenly   
before banking northward toward SRD.  
  
  
  
"You're planning something," she said bluntly once the shuttle had leveled   
out and assumed a smooth flight path.  
  
  
  
"My dear, you know me too well." He smiled slightly, clapping a hand   
lightly on her knee.  
  
  
  
"Do I need to know what it is at this point?" she asked, turning to take   
in the setting suns over the frosty landscape.  
  
  
  
"Suffice it to say it will involve revenge," he smiled.  
  
  
  
If her species had the capacity for laughter, Scorpius knew she would have   
chuckled at that statement. Lacking it, Niem merely smiled and shook her head in   
understanding.  
  
  
  
"Our first task will be to find out the details of Captain Crais'   
project." He explained and crossed his long legs comfortably. "Once we have that   
information, I will know better how to proceed."  
  
  
  
"I should have no difficulty getting that information," she assured him,   
golden eyes narrowing.  
  
  
  
"You are a treasure." He said tenderly. "How soon?"  
  
  
  
"I'll get started on it the microt we reach SRD." She replied.  
  
  
  
"Outstanding," He smiled before turning to a silent observation of the   
landscape flashing around them and the fall of night.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Scorpius shifted onto his side in bed, trying to find a more comfortable   
position. His quarters were pitch black, but his Scarran eyesight revealed   
everything in minute detail. He fought to keep his eyes closed and to think of   
nothing. It was a nearly impossible task.  
  
  
  
Niem had put her information Techs to work the microt they returned to   
SRD. They were burrowing their way into First Council's sealed records; a   
delicate and absolutely dangerous mission. Espionage was the acceptable norm in   
Peacekeeper society. To get caught however, meant death, usually by slow   
torture. More than sufficient inspiration to be as careful as Sebaceanly   
possibly.  
  
  
  
Waiting was a more arduous activity by far. Wondering if and when a squad   
of First Council's Elite Guard would burst into his chambers was nerve wracking.   
Still, the reward for success might very well be worth the risks. Once he knew   
the specifics of Crais' project, he could get to the task of sabotaging it. If   
the project failed, his chances of gaining First Council's sanction for his   
wormhole research were all but assured.  
  
  
  
Rolling to his other side, he opened his eyes to focus on the chronometer   
on his bedside table. 32:00. It would be dawn in four arns. Still no word from   
Niem.  
  
  
  
SRD had been blessedly quiet upon their return. Even his fellow scientists   
must have taken leave to join in the celebrations in the capital. He could just   
imagine the carousing, drinking and general nasty making that filled High   
Command Square throughout the night. Though he found the entire affair   
distasteful, it provided an exquisite cover for Niem's Techs. Who cared what a   
few lowly Techs might be up to when there was food, libations, and licentious   
revelry aplenty?  
  
  
  
He thought of the elegant Captain Bialar Crais running amok, recreating   
with as many females as he could lay claim to before collapsing in a besotted   
heap. A last congratulatory celebration before leaving to carry out First   
Council's mandate. Good for him, smiled Scorpius darkly. Delicious was the   
gautuk hen stuffed and well basted before roasting.  
  
  
  
The door signal chimed. He was sitting bolt upright in a microt and   
getting to his feet. Extending his senses he realized it was Niem outside his   
quarters. She was alone. Regaining his composure, he waved his hand over the   
lock sensor, opening the door.  
  
  
  
"It's done, Scorpius," she sighed as she came inside.  
  
  
  
He locked the door behind her and followed her to his desk. She placed the   
gray communiqué chip into his holoviewer. He offered her a chair and she sat   
down tiredly. He waved the illumination up half a level and engaged a jamming   
device to scramble any eavesdropping devices. At last he sat in the chair next   
to hers and tapped the on button. The red image shivered, wavered and spun   
before finally coalescing.  
  
  
  
Scorpius shuttled quickly forward through the entire compilation of data,   
taking it all in. Returning to the beginning he slowly scanned each image at   
great length.  
  
  
  
"What is it?" Niem asked, stifling a yawn.  
  
  
  
"Fascinating," he muttered distractedly as he shifted back to an earlier   
image.   
  
  
  
"Look at this," he said pointing at the multiple strands and coils. "This   
is Leviathan DNA."  
  
  
  
"What?" Niem asked rubbing her right eye and forcing herself to be more   
alert. "How is that possible?"  
  
  
  
"They are biomechanoids after all," he replied, his attention locked on   
the holoviewer. "Living ships. They aren't built so much as they are. .   
.created. . .by the Builders. Don't be fooled by their metal structures. Much of   
these beasts are living matter."  
  
  
  
"But why study Leviathan DNA? What could he hope to gain?"  
  
  
  
Scorpius shuttled the images forward rapidly until he found what he was   
looking for.  
  
  
  
"Do you see this?" He asked. "This is an artificial catalyst. According to   
these notes, it is meant to act as a means of impregnating a Leviathan."  
  
  
  
"That's a bit commonplace." She scoffed. "First Council would waste time   
and funding on this?"  
  
  
  
"Ah, but the delightful part of this equation is in what the pregnancy   
would yield." He told her. "Look closely at the details of the artificial   
catalyst. See anything familiar."  
  
  
  
"There is a great deal of Peacekeeper technology involved,"  
  
  
  
"Exactly!" Scorpius interrupted. "This is brilliant. How a first genner   
came up with this idea on his on is beyond my capacity to comprehend."  
  
  
  
"What is it?"  
  
  
  
"Simple, my dear," he told her with a grudging admiration. "Captain Crais   
is attempting to create a genetically engineered Leviathan offspring. More   
specifically, a Leviathan Gunship."  
  
  
  
"If memory serves, this has been tried before." She said bluntly.  
  
  
  
"Yes, but not with a catalyst as flawless as this," Scorpius said as he   
looked quickly through the images again. "It has failed numerous times before,   
ending in death. . . for all concerned."  
  
  
  
Niem nodded her understanding. Failure in Peacekeeper society meant death.   
While many civilians questioned the severity of a death penalty for every crime,   
they could not fault the results. Everyone was highly motivated to do his or her   
job and do it well.  
  
  
  
"Given the right Leviathan and circumstances, this will work." He said,   
his voice sibilant as he turned the holoviewer off with a resounding snap.  
  
  
  
"What are you going to do about it?" Niem asked.  
  
  
  
Silence surrounded them as he considered this. There were many avenues to   
choose from. Finding the perfect one would be a matter of time and patience.   
While he had little of the former, the latter was his strong suit.  
  
  
  
"Do we have anyone in Leviathan Studies that can be trusted?" He asked   
after nearly quarter of an arn.  
  
  
  
"I can look into it," Niem said without much enthusiasm.  
  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
  
"The Leviathan personnel are a peculiar lot," she answered with a grimace.   
"Cliquish, more suspicious than other scientific groups. Finding the right   
person will be difficult. Trusting them to commit sabotage. . .even more so."  
  
  
  
Scorpius considered this silently for another few microts.  
  
  
  
"Go over the personnel records of every top officer and Tech." He   
instructed as he rose and stretched his lanky frame. "Any irregularity, any   
questionable association, anything. . .find it and bring the information to me   
as soon as you can."  
  
  
  
"With the festival going on for another two solar days, I should have   
unimpeded access," she said, standing up as well. She swayed slightly and   
Scorpius gripped her arm.  
  
  
  
"When was the last time you slept?" He asked as he led her to the door.   
  
  
  
"Three solar days ago," she admitted with some embarrassment.  
  
  
  
"Rest, Niem." He told her gently. "Fatigue can lead to mistakes. We can't   
afford a single mistake in this endeavor."  
  
  
  
"Understood," she said before slipping out of his quarters into the main   
hall of SRD's billet block.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
Scorpius sat aboard his personal transport, studying the figure of the   
young Technical Lieutenant as it flashed to life on his holoviewer. Spine ramrod   
straight, face appropriately passive. Velorek was the perfect choice. His fit-  
reps painted him as a brilliant, if erratic and overly romantic, scientist. His   
affinity for the race of creatures who piloted Leviathans was legendary in SRD.   
As such, Crais was quick to snap him up for the project team he was assembling.   
Scorpius had been counting on it.  
  
He sighed and shifted slowly in his chair as he watched one of his   
operatives enter the chamber where the young Lieutenant waited. Velorek snapped   
to attention as the Commander approached and greeted him. Scorpius increased the   
volume of the comm link as he watched the exchange.  
  
"Commander Tolano Javio," the senior officer said crisply. "Thank you for   
agreeing to meet me on such short notice."  
  
"Your message stated that it was of vital importance," Velorek replied   
easing into a parade rest stance.  
  
"That it is, Lieutenant." Javio said, clapping a hand on Velorek's   
shoulder and leading him toward two nearby chairs.  
  
Scorpius smiled darkly. Javio was a useful tool and an elegant choice for   
this mission. As dull and unimaginative man as ever existed in Peacekeeper   
ranks. He did as he was told, made no waves and seemed genuinely grateful for   
Scorpius' questionable largesse.   
  
"Lieutenant, there's a lot of scuttlebutt going around about a project   
involving Leviathans," Javio said quietly.  
  
"It's a security three velka matter, sir." Velorek was quick to retort. "I   
am not at liberty to discuss it."  
  
"Understood, understood." Javio smiled genially, leaning closer and   
lowering his voice more. "But the word about the project is that it's, well, not   
natural. Some sort of freakish, criminal thing. Word is. . .no one wants any   
part of it."  
  
Scorpius watched as Velorek's eyes narrowed. The younger man pulled away   
from Javio as if burned, but made no move to rise.  
  
"I have nothing personal against Captain Crais," Javio continued softly,   
his voice almost apologetic. "He is a decorated hero after all, but. . ."  
  
"But what?" Velorek asked, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the   
conversation was going.  
  
"Well, he is a first-genner," Javio whispered conspiratorially. "They're   
not as given to respecting the natural order of things in Peacekeeper society as   
the rest of us, if you take my meaning."  
  
"I'm not certain I do," Velorek replied, but Scorpius saw the doubt   
plainly on his face.  
  
Javio rose stiffly then turned to say, "I think you do, Lieutenant."  
  
Velorek stood up quickly, facing him with a pained expression on his face,   
"Sir?"  
  
"You've got a good reputation, Lieutenant." Javio said with an almost   
fatherly smile. "Let your instincts guide you. You'll see what I've said is   
true."  
  
Velorek's brow knitted tightly. He seemed about to speak, but instead bit   
his lip and remained silent.  
  
"If the rumors about Captain Crais' plans for this project should prove to   
be true," Javio said gravely. "Well, I'm not suggesting insubordination by any   
means. Of course, you are the Leviathan expert. You'll know what should or   
should not be done in any event."  
  
The two men stared at each other for several long microts before Javio   
clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder, squared his garrison cap on his   
balding head and left the room. Scorpius watched the play of emotions on   
Velorek's face with a dark smile. He was well and truly snared. His compassion   
for Leviathans and Pilots would lead him like a ring through his nose into   
betraying Crais. Scorpius couldn't guess exactly what action Velorek would take   
to foul Crais' project, but the look on the young man's face spoke volumes. He   
turned off the holoviewer as Velorek left the chamber.  
  
Nothing was left now but waiting and patience.  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
Magistrate Tolan Pollivar shuffled through an orderly stack of   
transparencies. His mind was not on their contents, but the Regulator who stood   
at silent attention before him. He could almost see her mother when he looked   
into her pale young face. Merrina Kilm had been one of the best Procurators he   
ever had the privilege of working with in his 70 cycles with the Internal   
Affairs Directorate. Brilliant, calculating and beautiful. Officers in the   
highest echelons of the Peacekeeper services feared her, with good reason. If   
she could not ferret out a hidden truth through traditional methods of   
investigation, espionage or torture, she would use her not inconsiderable sexual   
gifts.  
  
  
  
In atypical fashion, Pollivar had cared for Kilm. He would have even gone   
so far as to admit it was passion he felt. He sired a child on her when they   
were both young Regulators. The child had been culled due to inferior   
intelligence. Pity. When they were selected for breeding, IAD held lofty hopes a   
future High Magistrate would come of their coupling. That it did not was a   
profound embarrassment, even after all these cycles.  
  
  
  
Within a cycle of their child's culling, Kilm made a tragic mistake. Her   
transgression cost her both her career and life. Following her selection for   
breeding with a renowned admiral, she did the unthinkable. Throwing away cycles   
of training, commendations and a secure future with IAD, Kilm disobeyed standard   
Peacekeeper High Command policy. She altered assignment schedules in order to be   
with the admiral to whom she had borne a child. She fell foolishly under his   
spell and died because of it. Condemning her of treason was the hardest single   
act Pollivar had ever done.  
  
  
  
Admiral Neleu EL-Vashti was considered blameless in the sordid affair,   
though Pollivar had tried his damnedest to bring him down. It would've been a   
modest compensation for the pain of condemning Kilm. EL-Vashti was the hero of   
the Scarran war, the Llundelan brush wars and responsible for the quelling of   
anarchists on Delvia. No Tribunal would have put such a decorated hero into the   
dock for a dalliance, however scandalous.   
  
  
  
Fifteen cycles ago when the young Regulator was first assigned to the IAD   
as a cadet, Pollivar looked into her sealed genetic records. He discovered what   
he'd already guessed. She was Kilm and EL-Vashti's daughter.  
  
  
  
Liliina EL-Vashti had her mother's pale skin, dark eyes and hair, the same   
slender frame and deadly intellect. However, the similarities ended there. Her   
arrogance, coldness and vicious instinct for the kill all came from her father.   
Pollivar would have detested her on general principle even if she were not EL-  
Vashti's daughter. That she was also Kilm's child was the only reason he had not   
found some way of destroying her.  
  
  
  
He continued to let her stand at attention, ignoring her and purposely   
procrastinating. Let her wait. Sensing her nearness to promotion to Procurator,   
she had gotten very high-handed. She was long overdue for an attitude   
adjustment. Though he despised her, he would be the first to admit she had   
outstripped her mother in the IAD. She was an exceptional Regulator. In her   
cold, methodical way, she always managed to get information more quickly than   
many of their veteran interrogation Teams.   
  
  
People feared her, not because of any great power she wielded, for she had   
little as a Regulator, the bottom of the IAD chain of command. It was her utter   
lack of emotion in her methods. She did not have a squeamish bone in her body   
and would resort to torture in an instant should her subject prove   
uncooperative. She had a talent for torture and its devices that bordered on the   
perverse. Destroying herself through sexual passion or love as her mother had   
would never be a problem for Liliina EL-Vashti. She was one hard as stone,   
frigid bitch.  
  
  
  
Of course everyone feared IAD personnel, with good reason. Peacekeeper IAD   
could bring down commanders in the highest military echelon on the merest   
whisper of wrongdoing. They had frightful power, but walked a dangerous   
tightrope themselves. How did a Regulator become a Procurator, or a Procurator   
advance to Imperator? How were Magistrates selected from the corps of   
Imperators? Competition was tight and oftentimes advancement relied on how   
clever an IAD officer was at cutting the throat of his fellows, not how worthy.   
But, then didn't cleverness make one worthy?  
  
  
  
Pollivar exhaled noisily, finally sparing the waiting Regulator a scathing   
look. She was almost as beautiful as her mother, but the cold black eyes were   
enough to freeze out any man. She was taller than most Sebacean women and   
slender, almost frail. She was not a fighter. . .at least she didn't look like   
one. IAD didn't conscript individuals into service for their brawn, but for   
brains. Grunts were meant for the commando regiments. The intellectuals were   
meant for something greater.  
  
  
  
"Liliina EL-Vashti," he said suddenly. She did not startle. He was   
disappointed somehow and knew he should have been ashamed at his pettiness.  
  
  
  
"Yes, Magistrate Pollivar." Flat, unemotional, but respectful.  
  
  
  
"You have been summoned here for a particular mission. The normal channels   
of command are being set aside in this case due to its delicate nature." He   
instructed. "We have received a very disturbing report from a member of the   
Special Research Directorate, Scorpius, concerning possible treason on the part   
of a command carrier captain. Bialar Crais is his name. It has something to do   
with an incident a little more than half a cycle ago. A project Captain Crais   
developed himself. The impregnation of a Leviathan with a Gunship offspring."  
  
  
  
"I am familiar with the incident, Magistrate." She acknowledged.  
  
  
  
"Good. You shall become even more familiar." He replied. "Apparently there   
was a question as to the success of the project due to sabotage by a Leviathan   
Research Division Technical Lieutenant. The traitor, Velorek, was questioned by   
IAD at the time, but he died without revealing his complicity in the matter.  
  
  
  
"Scorpius asserts that Captain Crais may not have been as forthright as   
first believed when questioned about the incident. He suggests that Crais may   
actually have been in alliance with the traitor Velorek. He further states that   
the impregnation of the Leviathan in question may have been a covert plot to   
make off with the vessel."  
  
  
  
"Why would any Captain in good standing risk his career and life on such a   
foolhardy mission?" she asked, dark eyebrows knitted. "No one could hope to   
evade our fleet in a mere Leviathan."  
  
  
  
"That is for you to find out, Regulator EL-Vashti." He said. "These are   
the materials in the case."  
  
  
  
He handed her the stack of transparencies he'd been shuffling. "You will   
also be required to question Scorpius further prior to your departure for the   
Mhultaan, Captain Crais' ship. Your Team is assembling and all necessary   
equipment is being readied aboard your transport."  
  
  
  
"Yes, Magistrate," she said.  
  
  
  
"EL-Vashti, prepare yourself." He advised her, leaning forward with elbows   
on his desk and fingers steepled in front of his face. "Scorpius is not. . . a   
full Sebacean. He is half Scarran. His appearance will no doubt…take you by   
surprise."  
  
  
  
Revulsion. Discomfiture. Finally, he had managed to pierce that cold   
armor.   
  
  
  
"He is, however, a valued member of the SRD and a brilliant scientist. You   
are to treat him with the utmost care." He warned her. "He has friends. Powerful   
friends. Your own father was his patron. Take that into consideration as you   
proceed on this case."  
  
  
  
"Yes, Magistrate."  
  
  
  
"You are dismissed Regulator EL-Vashti."  
  
  
  
Pollivar watched as she spun stiffly on her heel and left his office,   
spine ramrod straight. She would get her attitude adjustment with this no-win   
case. No matter the ending, someone would want her head on a jinka pole. Having   
questioned Scorpius himself, Pollivar had no doubts what would happen should the   
half-breed's agenda not be met. It would be a shame to lose such a gifted   
Regulator.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Liliina EL-Vashti smelled Scorpius before she actually saw him; a sickly   
sour smell almost like fresh baked bread. The stench of malnutrition and   
disease. Her stomach tightened as she walked farther into the darkened   
interrogation room. The skin beneath her red and black IAD uniform prickled and   
fine hairs stood on end when she perceived slight movement in the far end of the   
room. A shifting of paler shadows among darker ones.  
  
  
  
"You must be the Regulator," he said. His voice was like a harsh abrasive   
dragged along tender skin. "I've been waiting for more than an arn."  
  
  
  
"Apologies, Scorpius," she said, trying to sound unshaken. "I was detained   
in a meeting with Magistrate Pollivar. He has apprised me of the facts in this   
case."  
  
  
  
"Make this quick, if you please." He said coming fully out of the shadows   
and sitting in the only chair in the room. "Matters of utmost importance await   
me on the Gammak Base."  
  
  
  
"To be sure, sir." She said, still standing near the doorway. His body was   
completely incased in a bizarre environmental suit, leaving only portions of his   
grayish-white, wrinkled face exposed. Some sort of electronic devices protruded   
from his cowled head roughly where Sebacean ears would be, red lights shining in   
the dimness. He crossed spindly legs, the long tails of the thermic suit   
falling at odd angles around the chair. With great effort, she approached him.  
  
  
  
"Well?" he demanded, revealing a mouth filled with hideously discolored   
teeth.  
  
  
  
"I need certain particulars if I am to proceed with the investigation of   
Captain Bialar Crais." She began.  
  
  
  
"Young woman," he interrupted scathingly. "I have given a great deal of   
detailed information to your Magistrate Pollivar already. Am I to be   
inconvenienced by repeating it all to you?"  
  
  
  
"Regulator!" she snapped without thinking first. "You will address me by   
my proper title, Scorpius."  
  
  
  
A twisted sneer crept onto Scorpius' face and EL-Vashti knew immediately   
that she hated this horrid abomination. Every fiber of her being, every ounce of   
Peacekeeper training made her wish to squash him like an insect.  
  
  
  
"It is my duty to inform you that hampering my investigation in any manner   
whatsoever will put you at risk." She stated the IAD hard line to him, angry now   
and more than willing to pull rank.  
  
  
  
Scorpius laughed, a sound like the claws of a bird scratching on metal,   
then purred sweetly, "Very well. . .Regulator. By all means, please proceed."  
  
  
  
He was amused with her. She could sense it in his patronizing manner. She   
knew in that instant whatever charges and allegations this half-breed freak had   
leveled against Crais were false. It wasn't so much the evidence in the case,   
but her instincts that told her Scorpius was just another powerful Peacekeeper   
seeking revenge against an enemy.  
  
  
  
"Please start at the beginning of your involvement in the matter." She   
said. "I need names, dates and all other relevant information you have."  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Scorpius spun a twisting story of intrigue. His words painted Crais as a   
subtle but brilliant anarchist. He cited the Captain's birth and upbringing on   
an agricultural commune colony outside Peacekeeper territory; not all that   
unusual but a point which IAD noted with interest, ever mindful of conscripts.   
He listed a number of questionable actions committed by Crais leading to the   
most serious: collaboration with Velorek. It was a damning case taken as a   
whole, but still the doubt that originally formed in her mind did not ebb.   
Scorpius was up to something. Revenge, obviously. She could be certain of   
nothing else.  
  
  
  
Standing outside the office of Procurator Tev Dulan, she considered   
carefully what questions she needed answered. Seeking information from a fellow   
IAD Agent was always a ticklish affair. Her reputation was well known and only   
her powerful family name guaranteed her any respect whatsoever among her   
fellows. House EL-Vashti was one of the Founding Four families from the   
Peacekeeper's earliest days. Its membership included admirals, governors and   
royalty. The patrilineal Peacekeeper system had given her that much though she   
had been raised in a barracks along with others bred for the ranks. No one would   
dare offend her for fear of retribution.  
  
  
  
She pressed the signaler beside the door. It slid open after a microt and   
she strode into the outer office. She eyed the aid behind the reception desk   
coldly.  
  
  
  
"I need to speak briefly with Procurator Dulan." She said.  
  
  
  
"I will announce you, Regulator," replied the aid.  
  
  
  
She did not have to wait long before the short, stocky form of Dulan   
bustled into the outer office.  
  
  
  
"Regulator EL-Vashti," he grinned officiously. "What brings you through my   
door this fine day?"  
  
  
  
"Dulan, I know you're the one who tried to break the traitor, Velorek,"   
she stated icily. "Unsuccessfully by all accounts."  
  
  
  
"My team handled that case, yes." He admitted more than a little   
embarrassed by her remark and angered at her condescending nature. He hid it   
with a shaky smile.  
  
  
  
"I need to know everything that went on between you and Velorek, and all   
details of interrogations with Captain Bialar Crais." She went on.  
  
  
"Why, Regulator?" Dulan asked observing the courtesy of rank even if she   
did not. "Is the case being reopened? Are there charges against Captain Crais   
now?"  
  
  
  
"Simply answer my questions, Dulan." She replied. "Anything else is   
irrelevant to you."  
  
  
  
"Please, come inside," he motioned her into his private office. "Have a   
seat."  
  
  
  
"I won't be here that long," she said.  
  
  
  
Dulan eyed her callously but said nothing. He outranked this sanctimonious   
tralk, but her family was far too powerful. He had enough sense to keep his   
mouth shut and not cause trouble for himself. He sat stiffly behind his desk   
looking at her.  
  
  
  
"The matter of the traitor Velorek?" she prompted impatiently.  
  
  
  
"Yes, of course." He said. "Apparently, Captain Crais discovered Technical   
Lieutenant Velorek's conspiracy to block the project he had been assigned to.   
More specifically, Velorek was accused of somehow interfering with the   
conception process when Captain Crais was endeavoring to impregnate a Leviathan   
with a Gunship offspring."  
  
  
  
"Yes, yes Procurator Dulan," she interrupted. "I am already familiar with   
these facts. I need more in-depth information. Did Velorek in any way implicate   
others in the matter?"  
  
  
  
"Velorek implicated no one." Dulan replied. "He withstood our methods in   
complete silence and died unexpectedly during a simple mind-probe procedure. It   
was discovered through the autopsy that he suffered an allergic reaction to the   
medication we used for the probe, causing paralysis, asphyxia and cardiac   
arrest. My Team physician was unable to counteract it. Unfortunate, really. We   
might have made headway with the mind-probe."  
  
  
  
"And Captain Crais?" she prompted when Dulan fell   
silent.  
  
  
  
"He was beside himself with fury, as you can image. That type of betrayal   
on a project so valuable to First Council." He replied. "He completely lost his   
composure, I must say. I thought he would tear the lab apart when Velorek died."  
  
  
  
"He was present during Velorek's interrogation process?" asked EL-Vashti   
in disbelief.  
  
  
  
"We couldn't very well have kept him from it," Dulan answered. "As I said,   
he was almost completely out of his mind with rage. He had Velorek's entire   
team—with the exception of the commando who piloted their transport and a female   
Tech—brought up on charges. Of course they were all executed."  
  
  
  
"Out of his mind with rage," she repeated thoughtfully. "Could it have   
been an act of some sort? Did you get any scans on him at all?"  
  
  
  
"The scans all showed what you would expect, and we believed his emotions   
were genuine." Dulan said. "As you probably already know, Crais was a conscript   
from a remote agricultural colony. He's a first-genner. No house, no family of   
any note, nothing. He made his way up to command level through sheer   
determination and devotion to duty. He's a complete political animal. The   
impregnation of the Leviathan with a Gunship offspring would have made him,   
possibly even put him in line for the Admiralty. It would have been the coup of   
a dozen lifetimes."  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti considered this silently for several microts. She began to pace   
Dulan's office like a caged animal. He watched her lithe form, but without any   
real appreciation. She was poisonous, pure and simple. As a rule, the IAD bred   
within its ranks. He suffered a secret dread they would be selected for   
procreation. The very thought of the mating process with this woman made his   
mivonks shrivel.  
  
  
  
"Are you saying you suspect there is a possibility he was somehow   
involved then?" she asked.  
  
  
  
"Instinct reaction?" he said. "No. Not at all. However, the matter of the   
promotion of the Tech. . . "  
  
  
  
"What Tech?" EL-Vashti snapped leaning farther toward him. "The one spared   
from Velorek's team?"  
  
  
  
"Darinta Larell," Dulan replied.  
  
  
  
He tapped his security code into the control pad of his holoviewer. Data   
flashed to life before him. He scrolled down the list of files until he found   
the one he was looking for. He selected it and the image of a female, around   
forty-five cycles appeared above the desk.  
  
  
  
"This is the Tech?" EL-Vashti questioned stepping back, scrutinizing the   
red holo image as it revolved.  
  
  
  
"Yes." Dulan answered. "The day Velorek was arrested, Crais promoted her   
to the rank of lieutenant and put her into the traitor's former position."  
  
  
  
"And the informant," EL-Vashti said. "What's her story?"  
  
  
  
He selected another file and the person in question appeared between them   
in profile.  
  
  
  
"Officer Aeryn Sun. No promotion. No significant action at all on Crais'   
part. She was simply returned to prowler detail," Dulan replied. "It was her   
original posting until Velorek's team was assigned to Crais' project. She had   
been reassigned to pilot the cargo vessel ferrying equipment and personnel for   
the team. Returning to her prowler division was the price she demanded for   
trapping the traitor."  
  
  
  
"Is it possible either of these women is guilty of collaboration with   
Velorek? Or with Crais in some scheme we've yet to uncover?" She asked   
thoughtfully.  
  
  
  
"Larell is Crais' creature, plain and simple." Dulan said with distaste.   
"Whatever she did and received in return was out of pure loyalty to Captain   
Crais."  
  
  
  
"And the prowler pilot?" she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest   
as she watched Aeryn Sun's image turning atop the desk.   
  
  
  
"Oh, she's a grunt." Dulan chuckled as he turned off the holoviewer. "Just   
another commando pilot in the Pliesar Regiment. She trapped Velorek to return to   
flying prowlers when she could have demanded far more. She's nothing."  
  
  
  
"How far did the interrogation go with Crais?" she asked finally, coming   
to a stop and facing him again. She leaned toward him with her fingertips on his   
desk.  
  
  
  
"Not as far as I would have liked." Replied Dulan. "The Admiralty felt   
Crais was not culpable in the matter. A fact that kept his head on his   
shoulders, I can tell you. Quite a lucky turn of events."  
  
  
  
He trailed off and she nodded in agreement. Without another word she left   
his office. Dulan breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
  
  
"Frelling cholok," he whispered to himself as he wiped the perspiration   
from his forehead.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Letting herself into her quarters she found her lover there waiting for   
her. A breech of etiquette and even standard Peacekeeper practices, but she   
allowed it.   
  
  
She found her alliance with her Team's physician more fulfilling   
than any relations she experienced before. It was more than their physical   
compatibility. In a position that involved constant subterfuge and the hatred of   
those she served with, she could trust him. Jinn Khetyr was the one person in   
the universe she could trust with her life and had many times over. Exercising   
due caution and taking full advantage of her position in the IAD hierarchy, she   
managed to avoid investigation for their two-cycle-long relationship.  
  
  
  
"Where have you been?" he demanded as he took her roughly into his arms   
and kissed her.  
  
  
  
"Interviewing an abomination by the name of Scorpius and that weakling,   
Dulan." she replied pulling away from his embrace. "I hope you've gotten your   
things together. We're off to the Mhultaan in two arns."  
  
  
  
"A command carrier?" he asked following her with his eyes. "What is this   
about?"  
  
  
  
"Scorpius has made serious allegations against Captain Crais," she   
explained as she began stuffing spare uniform articles into a jump bag. "He   
claims Crais is plotting anarchy and we're the lucky ones who get to find out   
who's trying to frell whom. Wonderful, yes?"  
  
  
  
"Not another one of these frelling revenge motive cases," Khetyr sighed   
and flopped heavily down onto a floor cushion. "You know this is going to end up   
as arns of torture with no useable information. In the end we're going to look   
like thoddos, the truth about the motive will come out and we'll have dren all   
over us for smearing a command carrier armada captain of otherwise good   
standing."  
  
  
"We've survived these cases before," she said zipping up her jump bag.   
"This one will be no different. I smelled revenge the microt I laid eyes on that   
monster, Scorpius."  
  
  
  
"I've heard of Bialar Crais." Khetyr said. "He's very powerful and popular   
with the Admiralty and High Command. So is Scorpius; prominent scientist with   
the SRD and all that dren. How the satra do you think he's tolerated by High   
Command otherwise? Talk about irreversible contamination! This has the   
probability of landing us all on the torture table."  
  
  
  
"Well, just let me worry about that, all right?" she smiled tossing her   
bag by the door and joining him on the floor cushion. "I'm guessing I'll get   
Procurator out of this one." 


	2. Chapter Two -- Hunter, Prey

Chapter Two — Hunter, Prey  
  
  
  
  
The journey to the Mhultaan took twelve solar days. The IAD Team was   
thoroughly irritated with the tight confines of the transport and each other by   
the time they docked within the command carrier. Khetyr stepped out first,   
followed by his three Medical Techs, an Information-Retrieval Tech, the Team's   
server, and finally their leader, EL-Vashti. No one greeted them, a clear breech   
of protocol and an insult not only to the Regulator in charge, but the IAD as   
well.  
  
  
  
She could be short-tempered as a rule and had zero-tolerance for   
disrespect. The trip had done nothing to improve her mood. EL-Vashti tread   
heavily to the nearest maintenance Tech and started issuing orders.  
  
  
  
"I want our gear off-loaded and placed in our quarters immediately," she   
began, the non-com snapped to attention obviously recognizing her IAD rank   
insignia and its significance. "Then I want my Team properly in-processed and   
their needs seen to. And you can forget about warning your captain of our   
arrival. His insubordination has been duly noted."  
  
  
  
The last was said as she left the bay for the carrier's command core.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"If your intention was to get off to a bad start with this investigation,   
Captain Crais, you've succeeded." She announced striding angrily into the   
command core. "You were made aware of our arrival and yet you sent no one to   
meet us in the docking bay. A terrible breech of protocol."  
  
  
  
"You must be leader of the IAD team," Bialar Crais said with an overly   
charming, if not obsequious smile. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of   
your acquaintance, Regulator."  
  
  
  
"You're rather flippant for a man denches away from my. . .methods,   
Captain," EL-Vashti retorted sharply. "Breech of protocol is just one more step   
in your journey to the dock before a Tribunal."  
  
  
  
"EL-Vashti," Crais pondered stroking his beard with a gloved hand. "As in   
Admiral Neleu EL-Vashti? You're father? Quite a hero. His battle tactics were   
part of advances studies at the Academy."  
  
  
  
"Save your charm for the females you recreate with, Captain" EL-Vashti   
snapped. "If my reputation for thoroughness has not preceded me, I can arrange   
for a demonstration as soon as my Team is settled in."  
  
  
  
"I believe we've gotten off to a poor start, Regulator EL-Vashti," Crais   
said smoothly, clearly unruffled. "Allow me to make amends."  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"All standard recording devices have been deactivated, sir." The Team's   
Information-Retrieval Technician said to EL-Vashti.  
  
  
  
"And the non-standard?" she rejoined. "You know that fat thoddo has this   
suite wired from top to bottom."  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." He responded. "I anticipated that and have been over every   
nano-dench. All are disabled."  
  
  
  
"Have all prowlers and marauders been recalled?" she asked before   
finishing the glass of water handed to her by the team server.  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir. All docked and all pilots and crews accounted for."  
  
  
  
"Command core," she said into her comm.  
  
  
  
"Command. Lt. Teeg, here sir." Came the voice of Crais' second officer.  
  
  
  
"Bring the Mhultaan to a complete stop," ordered EL-Vashti. "This ship is   
to remain stationary until these proceedings are completed. Also, communication   
silence begins now. No signals in or out, is that clear, Lieutenant?"  
  
  
  
"Perfectly clear, Regulator," replied Teeg. "Ship to all-stop,   
communication silence commenced."  
  
  
"Activate the sensor shield and block everything coming in and going out   
of this ship." EL-Vashti ordered her Tech. IAD personnel took no chances.   
"Insulate our Team comm channels. Wouldn't want them using our signals to ride   
out one of their own."  
  
  
  
"That should certainly put a lump in his throat," snickered Dr. Khetyr.   
"It's the not knowing that caves them in every time."  
  
  
  
"Don't underestimate our prey, Doctor." EL-Vashti advised sternly. "He   
will be a hard one to crack."  
  
  
  
Khetyr smiled but held fast to his original opinion. Crais would crack,   
probably with the first round of electro-stimulus. EL-Vashti's obvious loathing   
of him could only help the process. She had no tolerance for disrespect. From   
the team's first moments aboard the Mhultaan, Crais had set the tone. She would   
now stop at nothing until the captain was a weeping, bloody mess.  
  
  
He knew much of EL-Vashti's opinion centered on the fact that Crais was a   
first-genner, with no House or name. That type of thing repulsed the old   
Families nearly as much as contamination by aliens. Typical to first-genner   
form, Crais had fawned on her and made a charming show in a futile attempt to   
make amends. That got him nowhere, Khetyr knew as a certainty. If anything, it   
put a deeply rooted, dark desire for his screams of pain into EL-Vashti's heart.  
  
  
  
"Doctor," her stern voice brought him back from his reverie. "Get your   
equipment into place in the interrogation room provided to us."  
  
  
  
"Shall I deactivate all sensory devices there as well, Regulator?" asked   
the Information-Retrieval Tech.  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti seemed to consider a microt before finally answering. "No. As a   
matter of fact, I would like the entire ship to know when their captain   
crumbles. Leave all their devices in place."  
  
  
  
Khetyr grinned at that pronouncement, lowering his head to hide it. Yes,   
she was after Crais' blood. The fact that Procurator awaited her if she brought   
down an officer as powerful as Crais only added gravy to the gautuk hen. This   
revenge motive case now took on an entirely new dimension. He could feel himself   
becoming aroused at the very thought of EL-Vashti at her cruel best.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
The interrogation room aboard the Mhultaan was painfully bright. The   
confinement chair was in the very center, surrounded by rolling tables filled   
with various devices and syringes of drugs. Tools of the trade. EL-Vashti did a   
final check on their progress. Everything was ready. She wordlessly waved her   
right hand at the Medical Tech by the door. He released the locking mechanism   
and called to the officers waiting in the hallway.  
  
  
  
Crais, his second officer Lt. Teeg and third officer Lt. Orn entered   
quietly and took their places before the communication console. EL-Vashti strode   
to the console then turned a nod to the Information-Retrieval Tech.  
  
  
  
"Begin recording," she ordered.  
  
  
  
She held up the small, grayish communiqué chip from IAD for the three   
Mhultaan officers to see. She inserted it into the console, then placed her hand   
into the genetic verifier, thumb on the sensor template. Crais did not hesitate,   
stepping up and mirroring her movements. Within a microt, the holographic image   
of Magistrate Pollivar spun and coalesced, casting a red glow on both Crais and   
EL-Vashti.  
  
  
  
"Captain Bialar Crais, commander of the Mhultaan carrier group," Pollivar   
pronounced dourly. "You have been charged with treason for the events of twenty-  
seven through thirty-four Volnuruth, cycle 6891, Peacekeeper reckoning. Evidence   
has been produced linking your failure in the Leviathan impregnation project   
with the actions of the traitor, Velorek. You are duly charged to stand for   
questioning in this matter by the appointed Regulator and her team. Any failure   
to comply with this investigation will be seen as a hindrance for which the   
penalty is slow torture and death. Indicate your understanding of these charges   
and your compliance to the Regulator-in-charge now."  
  
  
  
The image of Pollivar spun and dissolved, leaving the room in   
uncomfortable silence. Crais and EL-Vashti removed their hands from the console.   
She took the communiqué chip out and replaced it in the wrist pocket of her   
uniform. Turning to Crais, she was disappointed to find him still unperturbed.  
  
  
  
"Regulator," he began, voice soft and filled with respect. "I understand   
fully the charges that have been leveled against me and I pledge upon my honor   
as an officer to comply with all methods in your investigation."  
  
  
  
"Very good," she replied. "All non-IAD personnel with the exception of the   
accused must now leave."  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti noticed the look Crais' second officer, Teeg, gave him and filed   
it away in the back of her mind. There was a relationship of some sort there and   
she would be certain to explore and utilize it to her advantage.   
  
She turned her back on Crais as the two Medical Techs motioned him into   
the chair and secured him by both wrists and ankles. They placed sensor devices   
on both temples, to each side of his neck and to the backs of both his hands.   
They were designed to detect the slightest variations in electromagnetic fields   
around the body. They were also uncomfortably hot on tender Sebacean skin, a   
fact their designers took into consideration for their application in the   
science of interrogation.  
  
  
  
"Secured, sir" the leading Tech informed her before taking his place   
beside one of the rolling tables.  
  
  
  
"Doctor Khetyr," EL-Vashti said. "Minimal dosage to start."  
  
  
  
Khetyr left his position beside the doorway to measure the appropriate   
amount of mind probe drug. Satisfied with the level in the syringe, he handed it   
to his leading Tech who then administered it rather roughly into the side of   
Crais' neck. To his credit, he did not flinch even though the drug was notorious   
for the stinging pain it caused as it coursed through the body. The second and   
third Medical Techs busied themselves lowering the mind probe halo down over   
Crais' head. Once done, they stepped back to take their places within a few   
paces of the chair.  
  
  
Khetyr took up his position at the monitor console and nodded his   
readiness to EL-Vashti.  
  
  
"Engage the probe," she ordered watching Crais' face intently.  
  
  
  
The sound alone was enough to make most people cringe. The piercing whine   
set the eardrums of all present vibrating and tickling uncomfortably, though the   
effect was most pronounced to the person in the chair. EL-Vashti watched Crais'   
face tighten slightly, and then the small muscles around his eyes began to   
twitch. His mouth became thin and his hands became fists.  
  
  
  
Good. Perhaps Khetyr was right after all. Maybe Crais would cave quickly.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Crais rose from the swirling water in the whirlpool bath, stepping   
carefully over the edge of the tub. He stood, legs spread wide apart as his   
server toweled the rivulets of water from his body. He climbed onto the waiting   
massage table, face down, resting his chin on his crossed forearms. He closed   
his eyes as the server unrolled the thong around his queue and carefully ran a   
comb through the long, dark curls. When he was done, the server handed Crais a   
cold mug of fellip nectar from which he drank deeply, gratefully. He sighed as   
the server's hands gently kneaded the effects of the day from his body.  
  
  
  
All his muscles were sore from the strain of retaining his composure. The   
areas of skin where the sensor probes had been attached felt blistered, bearing   
angry red outlines in the shape of the sensor pads. His ears were ringing from   
the horrible sound of the mind probe halo and his head ached from the drugs.   
None of this could be seen on his face however as he relaxed under the tender   
ministrations of his server. He began to smile softly as he considered his   
predicament.  
  
  
Serious to be sure, but he knew there were ways around every situation no   
matter how dire. The Regulator, EL-Vashti, was extremely dangerous. Flouting her   
authority by not greeting her team in the docking bay had been a bad call on his   
part. He had not counted on her being a member of the Founding Four Families.   
They were the Peacekeeper elite and had no tolerance for those, like him, with   
no name. It was a misstep, but he knew he could correct it.  
  
  
He would now have to turn all his energies to defeating the Regulator and   
her team. Her obvious disdain for him would be a stumbling block, certainly. He   
quickly saw that charm alone would not cut it with her. She was a frigid,   
unbending professional.   
  
  
  
Everyone had weaknesses. He would simply have to be patient and thorough   
in finding hers.  
  
  
  
Crais knew he would never have made it this far in the Peacekeeper ranks   
without an innate survival instinct. He was the youngest first-genner to receive   
a command posting and the only one to be given the prestigious position of   
command carrier group captain. High Command thought highly of him and he   
intended to keep it that way, not only as a matter of survival, but also of   
pride. Saving face was his top priority.  
  
  
  
The server finished his massage, helping him into his off-duty clothing   
before silently bowing and leaving.   
  
Lieutenant Teeg had been awaiting his orders on the lower level of his   
quarters since before his bath. He pulled his hair away from his face, tucking   
it behind his ears as he took in her lithe, ramrod straight stance and elegant   
features. She would prove a most useful tool, he mused. He would aim her at the   
team physician, Khetyr. Crais figured him for the weak link. The non-com   
personnel would be too frightened of or too loyal to EL-Vashti to be counted   
upon. Khetyr on the other hand did not seem as arrogant or cold as his Regulator   
and may well be easily manipulated.   
  
  
  
"Lieutenant," he said coming down the steps to the lower level. "Any   
progress on surveillance in the IAD suite?"  
  
  
  
"No, sir." She said crisply. "All our probes and by-passes have failed."  
  
  
  
"Then we must take another route." He said sitting down behind his desk.   
"I want you to get close to their physician, Khetyr. Recreate with him. Use   
whatever means you see fit to get information out of him. Report everything, no   
matter how seemingly insignificant."  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir," she agreed with her usual calm, blank face.  
  
  
  
"We must have a lever if we are to move this mountain," he mused almost   
under his breath.  
  
  
  
"Sir?"  
  
  
  
"You know, of course that the accusations are entirely false," he stated,   
staring at her intensely.  
  
  
  
"Of course, sir." She replied.  
  
  
  
"And you will do whatever it takes to thwart this erroneous investigation   
of me?" he pressed, face as dark as his eyes.  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." She affirmed. "My loyalties always lie with you."  
  
  
  
Crais considered her for a microt as she gazed back at him. She adored   
him. That much was obvious. He recreated with her only once, testing the waters   
when she was first assigned as his second officer. She was insipid,   
inexperienced and utterly failed to please him. He did not tell her this, not   
wishing to turn her loyalties elsewhere. Then again, he didn't need to tell her.   
His lack of further interest in sex with her spoke volumes. Still, her emotions   
regarding him were clear. They were also useful.  
  
  
  
"Excellent," he said as he rose and came to stand behind her.   
  
  
  
He let his breath fall softly on the nape of her neck just above her   
uniform collar. The soft fabric of his briefs brushed her hands, clasped tightly   
behind her back and he could sense her quivering inside. Excellent, indeed.  
  
  
  
"Begin immediately," he ordered before turning to ascend the steps to the   
upper level of his quarters.  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." Teeg said, head bowed and breathing shallow. "Immediately."  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Nothing. Arns in the chair and nothing of any consequence," EL-Vashti   
sighed, lying face down on her bed.  
  
  
  
"Maybe he really is innocent," Khetyr observed, his head resting on the   
small of her back. "Maybe it's the revenge motive case we thought it was and we   
should pack it in while we're ahead."  
  
  
  
She spun out from under him angrily causing the back of his head to hit   
the bed with a thud. The look on her face was alarming. He loved her cruel side,   
the one that terrified most and earned her the well-deserved moniker of mivonks   
cracker. Watching her go after Crais had aroused him beyond the endurance of a   
rock. Upon their return to her quarters in the IAD suite, they promptly shed   
their clothes, making love fast and rough on the floor. He knew it was careless   
of them, considering the volatile nature of this case. They both needed an   
outlet, however. Twelve days on the transport without each other had been a   
strain. The ineffectual first interrogation of Crais only added to the stress.  
  
  
  
"If he were innocent," she asked sharply. "Why didn't he greet us upon our   
arrival?"  
  
  
  
"Maybe—just maybe—he's furious at his good name being smeared," Khetyr   
observed. "Lil, wouldn't you be just a bit perturbed if someone brought similar   
charges against you?"  
  
  
  
"Do not lump me into his category!" she snapped. "A first-genner doesn't   
have the right to be disrespectful to anyone, most especially to me."   
  
  
  
"Just making an observation," Khetyr said rolling onto his stomach, chin   
on his crossed arms as he watched her pace the room. "Remember, you were the one   
who said you thought Scorpius invented the entire thing just to ruin Crais."  
  
  
  
"I remember," she retorted angrily turning to face him.  
  
  
  
Khetyr smiled nefariously at the motion her breasts made with her sudden   
turn. She looked at him coldly, shaking her head. He laughed and closed his   
eyes.  
  
  
  
  
"We begin round two first thing in the morning." She said picking up the   
pieces of her uniform scattered around the floor. "I'm going to have a bite to   
eat and then turn in. You should return to your quarters now before we draw   
suspicion to ourselves here."  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." He sighed getting up to dress.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Lights up, half illumination." Khetyr commanded as he entered his   
assigned quarters.  
  
  
  
He wasn't prepared for what awaited him. As the lights came up he could   
see the outline of a woman's naked body on his bed. She was lean, blonde and   
cool looking. After a microt, he recognized the face of Lieutenant Teeg and his   
gut tightened. Crais' little minion come to seduce information or mercy out of   
the IAD physician. Cheap move, but he should have expected it from a first-  
genner.   
  
  
  
"What in the name of Cholok are you doing in here?" he demanded   
unfastening his jacket.  
  
  
  
"I thought you might need a little recreation after the long trip to meet   
us here," she replied, stretching languorously and smiling. "I've been waiting   
for you for arns. I hope someone else hasn't. . .beaten me to it."  
  
  
  
She rose from the bed coming slowly toward him. Before he could speak she   
was pulling his jacket off and reaching for the fasteners of his trousers. He   
grabbed her hands and pushed them away.  
  
  
  
"Look," he said angrily. "Go play somewhere else little girl. I don't have   
time for you."  
  
  
  
"Oh," she replied with a pout, hands reaching for him again. "So someone   
else did get to you first. Who was it, then?"  
  
  
  
"I'm tired," he said pulling her hands away from his groin. "I simply want   
to shower and go to bed."  
  
  
  
"Sounds like a good plan to me," she smiled pulling his suspenders off his   
shoulders.  
  
  
  
"Stop it now," Khetyr barked and roughly pushed her away.  
  
  
  
"What's the matter?" Teeg asked feigning jealousy. "Are you not a fancier   
of women?"  
  
  
  
"When they come full grown, yes." He snapped back. "Let's get this   
perfectly clear. You run along back to your master and tell him if he attempts   
to frell with our investigation again. . .in any manner whatsoever, he and all   
other persons involved will pay the price. Do you get all that?"  
  
  
  
"Don't be such a cold skivulk," she smiled trying to tug his undershirt   
out of his trousers. "I find you attractive and that's all there is to it. Now,   
let me help you relax."  
  
  
  
Khetyr had had enough of this. He shoved her away hard, causing her to   
lose her footing and hit the floor in an ungraceful heap. He grabbed her uniform   
off the side table, tossing it onto her sprawled form. The coy façade was gone   
for an instant and he saw the fury in her cold eyes, an ice-covered razor blade.   
She was now his enemy, more than just her captain's loyal minion. He would have   
to warn EL-Vashti and they would both need to watch their step.   
  
  
  
One of the reasons he had tried to keep Teeg at a distance was he feared   
she would smell EL-Vashti on him, or find her hair on his clothing. That in   
itself might not be a problem, but the long-term nature of their relationship   
would be.  
  
  
  
  
"Go deliver my message to Captain Crais," Khetyr ordered her.  
  
  
  
She hurriedly donned her clothes and slipped out of his quarters without   
another word.  
  
  
  
"Frell!" he swore under his breath.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"I was too late," Teeg admitted, embarrassed as she stood before Crais.  
  
  
  
He did not look up at her. His attention was fixed on his meal of raw   
trelkez brains and sour noodle salad. With the last bite he took a long draught   
of fellip nectar. He blotted delicately at his mouth with the napkin then sat   
with eyes closed as the table sank back into the floor. He sighed deeply then   
looked at his first officer, chin down and head cocked to the side. His eyes   
were very hard.  
  
  
  
"Perhaps you simply did not try hard enough," he observed coldly.  
  
  
  
"He had already been with someone else," she replied, eyes fixed straight   
ahead and above him. "I suspect it was the Regulator. He reeked of her fragrance   
and I saw several long, dark hairs on his uniform jacket as I attempted to   
undress him."  
  
  
  
"Well, that was not entirely unexpected," Crais chuckled wickedly.  
  
  
  
"He was very uncomfortable with my presence and seemed in a great hurry to   
be rid of me." She added. "I doubt there was anything I could have done to coax   
him into recreating with me."  
  
  
  
"Hmm," Crais pondered, stroking his beard. "That could be important. If he   
were simply too tired, he would perhaps have put you off until later. . .not   
shun you entirely. I would like for you to try again."  
  
  
  
"Sir, he gave me a message to convey to you regarding that," Teeg   
interrupted. "He said that any further attempt to hinder the investigation would   
result in all parties 'paying the price.'"  
  
  
  
"Well," Crais smiled again. "This is a strange turn of events. Why would   
he make a threat such as that unless he had something to hide himself?"  
  
  
  
"IAD Agents are notorious. . ." Teeg began.  
  
  
  
"This is more than a simple threat, Lieutenant." Crais corrected her.  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
  
  
"No, there is something else going on here. Something on a deeper level.   
Something being hidden." He said more to himself than to Teeg. "Now the task is   
to discover what that something is." 


	3. Chapter Three -- Into the Labyrinth

Chapter Three — Into the Labyrinth  
  
  
  
  
"Start from the beginning again, Captain." EL-Vashti urged as she stood   
over Crais, once again restrained in the chair. "Begin with your proposal to the   
Leviathan Research Division of the Science Directorate."  
  
  
  
Perspiration was starting to bead on his forehead, the muscle twitches   
around his eyes more pronounced. Crais could feel the fullness of his bladder   
and the burning of the probe pads, affixed to the same blistered areas as the   
previous day. His discomfort was quickly becoming pain and he was unsure how   
long he could keep up his composure.  
  
  
The Regulator was relentless, tireless. He knew for a fact that had she   
the availability of an Aurora chair, he would be in that now instead of a simple   
confinement chair. He counted himself lucky in that small kindness. He licked   
his dry lips and spoke through a sore and burning throat.  
  
  
  
"Regulator," he grunted, then cleared his throat. "For the fourth time. .   
.I had the inspiration for a Leviathan-Gunship cross-breeding project when I was   
a Leading Duty Officer of the prowler divisions assigned to shepherding convoys   
of new Leviathan acquisitions under the command of Captain Zynkara, twenty   
cycles ago. I did not have the power then to implement my ideas. After being   
assigned to captain the Mhultaan, I approached the Science Directorate with my   
idea. They informed me that it was not a new one. That it had been tried   
unsuccessfully with dire consequences. I convinced members of the Leviathan   
Research Division to try again under more controlled circumstances. My proposal   
was put before First Council and approved.  
  
  
  
"It was at that time the LRD assigned Lieutenant Velorek to me. He was but   
one of a number of scientists and Technicians engaged for the project." Crais   
paused a microt for breath, struggled to swallow before continuing. "I had not   
previously served with him, nor heard anything regarding his service record.   
Looking into his credentials, he was the perfect choice for the job, knowing   
more about Leviathan reproduction, gestation and delivery than anyone else at   
LRD or SD. He was also accustomed to relating with the species used to pilot   
Leviathans, speaking their language; he had a solid rapport with their council   
of Elders.  
  
  
  
"When the time came for selection of the Leviathan in question, it was   
agreed that a younger female—one who had never previously given birth—would be   
our best choice. I selected Moya from my own Leviathan convoy because she was   
the one best meeting that criterion. I was eager to implement the project and   
did not wish to wait a cycle or more for another suitable subject to be   
acquired.  
  
  
  
"The first difficulty arose when Moya's Pilot refused to cooperate with   
the impregnation process. She held the project up for nearly half a cycle while   
we awaited Velorek's return with a replacement Pilot."  
  
  
  
Crais paused again, nearly gagging from the parched feeling at the back of   
his throat. The lead Medical Tech came forward with a small cup of water but was   
waved away by EL-Vashti. She picked up an instrument from a nearby rolling table   
and held it in Crais' line of sight. It was an unusually long nasal speculum   
whose tip shot tiny sparks when she depressed the trigger mechanism. She leaned   
toward his face with it and he fought to remain calm.  
  
  
  
"What is that thing?" he asked a tremor arising in his voice.  
  
  
  
"Let's just say you would no longer have to worry about the problem of   
unsightly nose hair," Dr. Khetyr said dryly, not looking up from his console.  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti held it within denches of his nose, allowing the sparks to fall   
onto his mustache and the delicate skin of his upper lip. Crais flinched as much   
as the mind probe halo would allow and clinched his teeth. His eyelids fluttered   
rapidly and a growl escaped his throat without him realizing it.  
  
  
  
"Our Captain almost has mivonks," EL-Vashti smiled stonily as she leaned   
away from him. "No more stalling. Continue or you will find out in a most   
uncomfortable way just what this device is capable of."  
  
  
  
"Velorek finally returned with the replacement Pilot," Crais grunted,   
angry now and not afraid to allow any of them to see it. "I ordered the   
execution and removal of the uncooperative Pilot and the immediate installation   
of the new one. It was at this time that Velorek tampered with the project. I   
don't know how. I don't know why. My people tore that Leviathan apart and came   
away with nothing. Your own people came here to question Velorek and killed him   
with your methods before he could talk!"  
  
  
  
"These things happen," Dr. Khetyr observed quietly, still monitoring   
Crais' EM readings.  
  
  
  
"This same Leviathan, Moya, has been under constant supervision by my   
people ever since." Crais barked. "Discovery of the reason why that ship did not   
become pregnant is my top priority as sanctioned by High Command. Your presence   
and this ridiculous farce of an IAD inquest are now postponing that mission!"  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti set the device down on the rolling cart nearest her and   
approached him. She placed her hands on the back of the chair to either side of   
his head, leaning until her nose was nearly touching his. The look of fiery   
hatred in his eyes was lost on her. She had obviously seen it too many times   
before to be phased. She stared back with teasing eyes and a sarcastic smile.  
  
  
  
"Now, you can tell me, Crais," she said softly into his face, her   
fragrance surrounding him and making him nauseous. "When exactly did you ally   
yourself with the traitor Velorek and why? Was it riches, power, sex?"  
  
  
  
Crais' face was growing red with fury. His arms strained against the   
bindings holding him to the chair. His hands longed to wrap around her long,   
elegant highborn throat and silence her venomous tongue forever. A growl was   
rising in his throat again.  
  
  
  
"Tell me, Crais. The whole truth here and now and you have my solemn vow   
as an IAD Agent that I will represent you fairly at your Tribunal." She was   
nearly whispering now. "I can even guarantee your execution will be swift and   
painless."  
  
  
  
"Get away from me you frelling tralk!" Crais snapped, spittle flying from his   
lips. EL-Vashti laughed in his face before straightening and addressing the   
rest of her Team.  
  
  
  
"Frelling tralk." She mocked, chuckling icily. "Now that is original. I   
don't think anyone has ever called me that before."  
  
  
  
A round of laughter came from her audience, all but Crais whose teeth were   
about to shatter from the force of being clenched so tightly. Suddenly she was   
in his face again, all softness gone. Here eyes were like permafrost as she   
touched her nose to his.  
  
  
  
"You can forget about the swift and painless part, Captain." She hissed   
before standing up again. "My Team physician tells me you tried to tamper with   
him last evening. Sending that vapid little Lieutenant Teeg to his quarters was   
yet another stupid mistake on your part. Then again, how could we expect   
anything else from a first-genner such as yourself?"  
  
  
  
"Frell you!" Crais swore violently tugging his arms and legs against the   
restraints.  
  
  
  
"No thank you," she replied coolly. "I don't recreate with traitors."  
  
  
  
Crais saw an opening and took a gamble.  
  
  
  
"You don't recreate with anyone. . .except your good doctor." He hurled at   
her smiling viciously.  
  
  
She didn't react. She was too much of a professional to respond to a   
common jibe. Still, Crais knew in his gut he was on the right track. It came to   
him when Teeg described her failure to get Khetyr into bed. They were obviously   
together. Now the problem would be to discover how long and to what extent they   
had flouted convention or tampered with orders.  
  
  
  
"Typical, common first-genner," EL-Vashti smiled in return. "My sex life   
is the least of your worries at this microt."  
  
  
  
She retrieved the electro-stimulus nasal speculum again. "I think it would   
be advisable to bring your second in command in on this session. She may well   
have valuable information that will shed light on your treachery, Captain. Or   
perhaps your co-conspirators, Lt. Larell and Officer Sun?"  
  
  
  
"For the last time," Crais snarled. "I am no traitor. The Peacekeepers are   
my life. Their goals and mission are mine. I stand by my blood oath until   
death."  
  
  
  
"I believe you're afraid your little harem may give us the information you   
won't," EL-Vashti countered swinging the device casually near his face again as   
she paced before him. "It certainly couldn't be that you care for their welfare.   
First-genners lack the ability to feel true loyalty to their comrades."  
  
  
  
"Lieutenant Teeg is a loyal officer as are both Larell and Sun," Crais   
said now trying to calm his tone. "They are not a part of this. . .this farce."  
  
  
  
"You made Teeg a part of it when you sent her to my physician's quarters   
last night." EL-Vashti snapped, spinning toward him suddenly. "While subterfuge   
may be common on your ship, it is not tolerated by an IAD team on assignment."  
  
  
  
She tossed the speculum onto the nearest table. It skipped, bounced and   
landed on the deck with a loud clatter and sparks flying from its tip. She took   
a deep breath and let it out slowly as she crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
  
  
"Escort the captain back to his quarters," she ordered the leading Medical   
Tech. "Then I want lieutenants Teeg and Larell brought here for questioning at   
once."  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"I don't care how you do it," Crais told his server in a deadly tone. "I   
care only that it is done and without any of the IAD personnel knowing about   
it."  
  
  
  
The server nodded his head solemnly and bowed. "Understood."  
  
  
  
As he turned to leave Crais' quarters the doors slid open to admit Lt.   
Teeg. She was in a horrible state; red welts angry on her pale face and hands,   
bruises around her nose and mouth and her eyes red-rimmed. She had obviously   
been treated more roughly than Crais. He could not tell if it was due to her   
lower rank or the growing frustration of the Regulator. He knew, however, that   
it was a dangerous sign. He had to put a stop to EL-Vashti once and for all and   
soon, before he actually wound up in the dock before a Tribunal.  
  
  
  
"Lieutenant," Crais said taking in her battered appearance and hair in   
disarray.  
  
  
  
"Sir," she replied, voice cracking. "I told them nothing of consequence."  
  
  
  
"You had nothing to tell them," he said getting up and coming around to   
the front of his desk. He took her shoulders in his hands and turned her to face   
him. "I explained this to the Regulator, but . . ."  
  
  
  
"She's out for blood, Captain." Teeg said bitterly. "She will stop at   
nothing. I thought for a while that she would . . .kill me."  
  
  
  
"I would never allow that," Crais said earnestly. Another second officer   
as loyal as Teeg would be difficult if not impossible to find.  
  
  
  
He touched her face gently and the look of hope in her eyes made him draw   
his hand away as if burned. He patted her shoulders again then returned to sit   
behind the desk.  
  
  
  
"Do you have word on Lt. Larell?" Crais asked her casually.  
  
  
  
"Her condition prohibited the normal mode of questioning," Teeg replied.   
"Regulator EL-Vashti was more than slightly displeased as a result."  
  
  
  
"I have an idea, Lieutenant." He said finally, eyes very bright. He   
pressed a button on the panel to his right. "Security three velka scramble   
activated."  
  
  
  
He began to speak rapidly, "I want you to forget about breaking their   
signal shielding. What I need now is to get a message back to Kordaen and the   
only way to do that is to ride one of their signals out of this ship. It's   
standard IAD procedure to send a daily report back to their Directorate. We'll   
use one of these to get our signal out undetected. I need for you to get your   
best Techs on it immediately. When you have secured a way through their security   
protocols, I want a scrambled message sent to the Genetics Directorate via High   
Command."  
  
  
  
"Genetics Directorate?" Teeg said completely perplexed.  
  
  
  
"Trust me," Crais said softly. "This is one twist in the labyrinth that   
IAD Regulator will not see coming."   
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Khetyr soaped EL-Vashti's back, buttocks and thighs with long lingering   
strokes of the sponge. Her body was coiled as tightly as a spring. She stood   
spread-legged with her back to him, her hands resting on the shower wall. The   
water from the massaging head pounded onto her skull causing her long hair to   
flow downward, rivers of dark silk around her body. Her breathing was shallow,   
her flesh unyielding.  
  
  
  
She had been in this state since failing to secure information from either   
Teeg or Larell. Khetyr had seen her go hard on a suspect before, but the   
viciousness with which she tortured the obviously ignorant Teeg was difficult to   
watch. It was as though in knowing the young woman was innocent of wrong doing,   
she wished to destroy her body and soul. Perhaps it was Teeg's unflagging   
loyalty to Crais that got her going. Not being able to use their standard   
methods on Larell only served to send her into a fury. He shuddered at the   
memory of her face when the heavily pregnant Larell was escorted into their lab.  
  
  
  
"Frelling grolash," she mumbled, her voice nearly drowned out by the sound   
of the water falling on them both. "And his two frelling tralks."  
  
  
  
"Lil," he said pulling her body against his and pressing his lips to her   
ear. "Let it go."  
  
  
  
"If he wasn't so popular with High Command," she said angrily. "Jinn, I   
swear I would have cut his tongue out right there just like I did with that   
commando a cycle ago."  
  
  
  
"You need to try to accept the fact that Crais is innocent," Khetyr   
soothed.  
  
  
  
She tried to jerk away from him but he held her fast.  
  
  
  
"I don't care about innocence or guilt anymore, Jinn," she said, almost a   
sob. "I just want to bring him down."  
  
  
  
"That's not logical, Lil," Khetyr reasoned. "It's not our mission. We came   
here to find out the truth, not re-write history."  
  
  
  
"It wouldn't be the first time a team cashiered an innocent," she said,   
finally allowing him to enfold her in his arms and rock her back and forth.  
  
  
  
"It's time to cut our losses and go home, Lil." He said gravely. "We do   
not want to endanger ourselves. If we have no viable evidence, High Command is   
going to step in on his behalf. Then where will we be? Up on charges? Facing a   
Tribunal. . .with Crais making the accusations? We are not innocent, Lil. We   
would not survive it."  
  
  
  
"I can't let it go," she insisted shaking her head.  
  
  
  
"You'll have to, or lose everything you've made for yourself and bring   
shame to your House." He reasoned turning off the taps and wrapping her in a   
towel. "In the two cycles we've been together I've never tried to force you to   
do anything, but now I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. We have to stop this   
and go back to the Directorate.  
  
  
  
"We're not talking about punishment. We're talking about being in the dock   
before a Tribunal and our own torture and executions. The head of an EL-Vashti   
has never hung on a jinka pole in recorded Peacekeeper history. You don't want   
yours to the first." He concluded sitting beside her on the bed.  
  
  
  
"I would never let it come to that," she said touching his face tenderly.   
  
  
  
"I know you wouldn't mean for it to happen," he replied kissing her   
fingertips gently. "But if you don't stop now, it's going to happen anyway."  
  
  
  
"If only I had access to an Aurora Chair," she said sullenly.  
  
  
  
"High Command would never sanction that. Not in the case of so powerful an   
officer." Khetyr countered. "Please, Lil. Don't do this to us. Our future is   
secured. We don't need to destroy Crais."  
  
  
  
"One more round," she said lying back on her bed. "One more round tomorrow   
and I will. . .consider it."  
  
  
  
"Lil," Khetyr sighed before joining her. 


	4. Chapter Four -- Durance

Chapter Four — Durance  
  
  
  
  
Dr. Khetyr had never seen EL-Vashti like this before. She was pacing the   
interrogation room like a rabid beast, denches from striking. Her breathing was   
shallow, her eyes wide and unblinking. If her interrogation of Crais went on for   
another microt Khetyr was certain she would crack, perhaps even killing him. He   
couldn't allow that. High Command would examine their records and have them all   
up on charges and executed.  
  
  
  
Crais had lost his anger and fear from the previous day, sitting calmly as   
though at a command function. This had the effect of driving EL-Vashti even   
harder as she struggled to break him, humiliate him into displaying his emotions   
of the last round. The crueler she became, the gentler and more charming   
Crais' expression, the softer his voice and respectful his replies.   
  
  
  
In the two cycles Khetyr had been with EL-Vashti's team, not once had he   
seen her so evenly matched. Crais was beyond all her efforts. She was beyond   
relenting to the fact of his innocence. This was a stalemate that would cost   
them all their lives.  
  
  
  
"You mock my authority, Crais?" she spat leaning in close to his face.  
  
  
  
"I would never think of it, Regulator," Crais smiled. "I recognize your   
authority and respect all efforts you are making to solve this case."  
  
  
  
Her eyes were merciless as she stared into his. Her fists clenched and   
unclenched at her sides. One more microt and she would crush the life out of   
him.  
  
  
  
"Pardon, Regulator," The Information-Retrieval Tech said quietly. "A   
Priority One message from High Command, Security three velka."  
  
  
  
"Not now!" she snapped at him, not breaking away from her stare down with   
Crais.  
  
  
  
"It is coded for immediate viewing, sir." The Tech insisted.  
  
  
  
"This is a trick of yours isn't it, Crais?" she snarled into his smiling   
face. "You've called in your favors with High Command to have my team pulled off   
your back. It won't work. IAD has the final say. You will admit your guilt!"  
  
  
  
"I've done nothing of the kind, Regulator." He assured her calmly.  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti continued to glare at him for several tense microts before   
spinning away to snatch the communiqué chip from the Tech. She jabbed it into   
the communications console and waited. Nothing happened. Her Tech cleared his   
throat as he came to stand beside her. Trembling, head bowed he spoke softly.  
  
  
  
"It is coded for both you and Captain Crais, sir." He said haltingly.  
  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." The Tech affirmed before backing away from her.  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti spun to face Crais with death in her black eyes. She was   
quivering with rage and her face had gone more pale than usual. She motioned   
roughly to the two secondary Medical Techs behind the chair.  
  
  
  
"Release him!"  
  
  
  
The Techs hurried to comply, one working on either side to free Crais'   
hands and feet, and removing the probe pads. Crais stood with great dignity,   
smoothing his hair and adjusting his uniform. He sauntered toward the   
communications console, eyes never leaving EL-Vashti's face. It was obvious he   
knew what was coming and did not wish to miss her reaction.  
  
  
  
"Clear this room." EL-Vashti ordered.  
  
  
  
"With respect, Regulator," the Information-Retrieval Tech stammered. "The   
communiqué is also coded for witness by the entire team."  
  
  
  
She bit her tongue against any reply. She had some pride left and would   
not let this bastard gloat over her failure. She turned to the console, placing   
her hand in, thumb on the sensor template. Crais mirrored her slowly as though   
savoring every microt of her defeat. She turned a look of pure hatred on him,   
finding him still smiling at her, eyes filled with unadulterated elation.  
  
  
  
The image of Admiral Menkena spun to face them, coalescing into glowing   
red clarity.  
  
  
  
"Regulator EL-Vashti, you and your team are hereby discharged of your   
mission to investigate Captain Bialar Crais. By order of High Command, he is   
forthwith cleared of all suspicion, accusations and charges." The old woman   
pronounced dourly, her scared and wrinkled face nearly as pale as her silvery   
hair.   
  
  
  
"Furthermore, the following order has been set down from Genetics   
Directorate. You, Regulator Liliina EL-Vashti and you, Captain Bialar Crais have   
been selected for procreation. You are hereby ordered to mate to produce   
offspring for the ranks. You are to begin immediately. When your   
pregnancy has been confirmed, Regulator EL-Vashti, you will return to IAD for   
reassignment to a maternity confinement unit until after the birth."  
  
  
  
The image of Admiral Menkena spun and dissolved as Crais removed his hand   
from the console. EL-Vashti's hand remained, her entire body shaking with rage.   
She had gone ice cold with shock and found she could not move. Crais   
straightened his uniform again as he walked away from her.  
  
  
  
"When the Regulator has recovered from the surprise of this. . .honor,"   
Crais instructed the team members smugly. "Bring her to my quarters."  
  
  
  
Before he could get out of the interrogation room EL-Vashti was on him,   
shrieking and fists swinging toward his face. Her momentum caused them both to   
hit the deck in a tangle of intertwined limbs. Landing on top of him, she locked   
her hands around his throat. He effortlessly brought one knee up hard and quick   
into her solar plexus. She fell away gagging, gasping for breath.  
  
  
  
"This unseemly attack will go unreported, Regulator." He smiled as he   
rubbed his throat. "I will consider it your natural reaction to the shock of our   
selection for one another."  
  
  
  
He rose slowly looking down at her, the smile on his face now dark, eyes   
filled with menace. He straightened his uniform and smoothed his hair before   
speaking again.  
  
  
  
"My order stands," he said. "Clean her up and bring her to my quarters. .   
.in magcuffs if you have to."  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Security three velka confirmed, proceed." The voice of Pollivar's aide   
resounded in the darkness of the bedchamber.  
  
  
  
"Magistrate, I must lodge a formal protest." EL-Vashti said hoarsely over   
the secured IAD channel. "Crais has subverted my investigation by going to the   
Genetics Directorate. I don't know what favors he called in, but he's had us   
selected for procreation. I cannot allow this!"  
  
  
  
Silence was the only reply from the audio communication.  
  
  
  
"Sir, I demand that this travesty be reversed immediately," she said   
stridently. "A member of one of the Founding Four cannot be mated to a common   
first-genner. It is not to be tolerated. I demand that. . ."  
  
  
  
"You demand, Regulator?" Pollivar's voice interrupted frostily. "You are   
in a position to demand nothing."  
  
  
  
"Sir, I know it is within your power to reverse this decision." She   
replied more respectfully.  
  
  
  
"It is," Pollivar admitted tersely.  
  
  
  
"Then for all that's honorable, countermand the selection. Free me from   
this degradation and reinstate the charges against Crais." She pleaded.  
  
  
  
"EL-Vashti," he said slowly, deliberately leaving off her title. "You have   
made many enemies in your time with IAD. While it is common to have enemies in   
this field, most of us know how to cover our backs against these things. In your   
haste to shove your highborn status down the throats of every living being you   
come into contact with, you failed to protect your back."  
  
  
  
"Magistrate!" she hissed.  
  
  
  
"Evidence has been provided to me that should put your neck on the   
executioner's block." Pollivar informed her. "Be glad that Crais decided to be   
merciful and take this tack to secure his revenge."  
  
  
  
"Magistrate Pollivar, I demand..." She snapped but was cut short.  
  
  
  
"Save your energy for the mating ritual," he told her coldly. "You'll need   
it."  
  
  
  
The light on the panel before her went out indicating the communication   
had been terminated. She sat silently in the dark for a long time. Waiting and   
hoping that something, some idea would come to her that could save her from   
Crais' revenge.  
  
  
  
She'd underestimated his cleverness; discounted that he might have   
connections back at High Command, or with First Council. It never occurred to   
her that a first-genner would be able to secure such a selection from Genetics   
Directorate. Had she considered every path his commoner's mind might take, this   
was one maneuver she would never have foreseen.  
  
  
  
The door chime startled her. She had locked herself in her quarters,   
waiting for Khetyr to arrive. Hoping against hope that he would have an answer.   
Fear tightened her gut. What if it wasn't Khetyr? What if Crais made good on his   
threat to have her brought to him in restraints. It was within his rights.  
  
  
  
"Who is it?" she barked, shivering in the darkness.  
  
  
  
"Sir," the voice of her Information-Retrieval Tech was strained. "Captain   
Crais has sent a squad of commandos to escort you to his quarters."  
  
  
  
She flinched and pulled her knees into her chest as she sat on her bed.   
She had to stall. They probably wouldn't hurt her, but commandos could easily   
stray from orders. She caught her breath and called to her Tech.  
  
  
  
"Send Dr. Khetyr to me immediately," she ordered. "After I have conferred   
with him, I will go with Crais' commandos."  
  
  
  
"I'm here, sir," Khetyr answered. "Unlock the door and allow me to enter."  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti did as he asked, raising the illumination in the room only   
slightly. She locked the door as soon as it closed behind him. His face was   
filled with concern as he came to stand in front of her. Without a word he   
slipped his arms around her, putting his lips to her hair.  
  
  
  
"Jinn, I can't go through with this." She whispered. "I can't let that   
trog touch me, impregnate me. It would be a crime against my House."  
  
  
  
"Lil, you don't have a choice." He said softly into her ear. "Those   
commandos are not going to take no for an answer anymore than Crais will."  
  
  
  
"Then do something," she said pulling away and staring hard into his eyes.   
"Give me something so I won't conceive. I cannot have a child by that frelling   
zannet."  
  
  
  
"Give me a microt to prepare the syringe," he replied getting up from the   
bed. "Just act as though nothing were wrong. Go along with whatever he says. If   
you haven't conceived by the fourteenth attempt, he will have to release you."  
  
  
  
"Jinn," she said, her voice breaking. "Thank you."  
  
  
  
"I don't want this any more than you do, Lil." He said sadly.  
  
  
  
She watched him leave, locked the door behind him again and prepared   
herself for the ordeal ahead.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Lt. Teeg stood silently in front of his desk as Crais listened to the   
exchange. Having his personal server place the surveillance device in Khetyr's   
uniform tunic was a masterstroke. Now not even the most intimate microts between   
the physician and his Regulator escaped recording. He had obtained enough   
damning information to have them executed ten times over.  
  
  
"Lieutenant," he said softly. "Have the good doctor brought to me   
immediately."  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." She replied, leaving without Crais noticing.  
  
  
  
The noble born nixar thought she could outmaneuver him. She obviously   
miscalculated the cunning a first-genner could muster once cornered. Crais had   
not sweated blood to attain his position in the Fleet only to have a scheming   
bureaucrat smash it to bits for her own aggrandizement. A lifetime of clawing   
his way though dren, over and around the bodies of those in his way, taught him   
to think faster and on many more levels than the average soldier. He would win   
this battle as he had so many others. EL-Vashti was outmatched and didn't even   
realize it yet. She soon would, he mused smiling coldly. She soon would.  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Khetyr rummaged quickly through his pharmacopoeia. He began aligning   
bottles alongside his syringe in a neat row. It would take a particular mixture   
of drugs to accomplish the effect he desired, while also remaining undetectable   
from the scans Crais' physician would undoubtedly perform. He moved quickly and   
deliberately, drawing amounts of the variety of drugs into the syringe. He was   
concentrating so on his task that he failed to hear the door to his lab slide   
open.  
  
  
  
"Take him," Teeg's voice ordered to the sound of commando boots running   
into the room. "Intact, please."  
  
  
  
"What is this!" shouted Khetyr before the first commando grabbed him. A   
second quickly forced a gag into his mouth.  
  
  
  
He struggled for a few microts until the grasp of the commando became too   
painful to bear.  
  
  
  
"Captain Crais wishes a word with you doctor," Teeg informed him.  
  
  
  
She made one curt motion with her head for the squad to drag Khetyr from   
the lab. His eyes were wild but he no longer resisted the hold. He followed,   
tripping, trying to keep up with the commandos' swift pace. He watched as they   
passed dozens of Mhultaan crewmembers who studiously ignored his plight. As his   
mind raced he realized this was probably nothing new aboard Crais' vessel.   
First-genners were capable of anything, which is what made them both   
unpredictable and unreliable. Cold terror gripped him and he expected the worst.  
  
  
  
Khetyr nearly fell as he was shoved into Crais' quarters. He staggered   
before the desk and winced as the gag was roughly removed from his mouth. He   
wiped his lips and chin with the back of his hand and stared into the cold eyes   
of the captain.  
  
  
Crais signaled the squad to leave and motioned Teeg to stand beside him.   
She silently handed him a small remote communications device, her eyes never   
leaving him. Khetyr had been right about one thing; Teeg was Crais' devoted   
sycophant. She would stop at nothing to gain his approval, even participating in   
this farce of impregnating EL-Vashti. It was clearly a situation she fancied for   
herself, however. Seeing the two together, that much was obvious.  
  
  
  
The silence scared Khetyr most. He remembered that EL-Vashti always   
enjoyed using silence. It was the not knowing that caused the most fear, she   
said. He was experiencing her theory first hand. He continued to stare at Crais,   
afraid to look away, waiting for what was in store. He watched as Crais   
depressed a small button on the remote, trembling at the thought of what it   
might activate.  
  
  
  
  
"If he wasn't so popular with High Command," EL-Vashti's voice filled the   
room. "Jinn, I swear I would have cut his tongue out right there just like I did   
with that commando a cycle ago."  
  
  
  
"You need to try to accept the fact that Crais is innocent," Khetyr's own   
voice chimed in.  
  
  
  
"I don't care about innocence or guilt anymore, Jinn. I just want to bring   
him down."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Khetyr was both outraged at the obvious subversion of their jamming   
technology and frightened by what he heard. It was their death warrant. The   
entire team would be court-martialed and executed for this.  
  
  
  
Crais depressed a second button, his lips pursed in an almost childish   
pout as he watched Khetyr's reaction.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Jinn, I can't go through with this. I can't let that trog touch me,   
impregnate me. It would be a crime against my House." EL-Vashti's voice   
whispered.  
  
  
  
"Lil, you don't have a choice. Those commandos are not going to take no   
for an answer any more than Crais will."  
  
  
  
"Then do something. Give me something so I won't conceive. I cannot have a   
child by that frelling zannet."  
  
  
  
"Give me a microt to prepare the syringe. Just act as though nothing was   
wrong. Go along with whatever he says. If you haven't conceived by the   
fourteenth attempt, he will have to release you."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Crais stopped the recording and carefully placed the remote device on his   
desk. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and deliberately, all the   
while considering Khetyr like a bug beneath a magnifier. He laced his fingers   
gingerly before him and cocked his head.  
  
  
  
Khetyr watched Crais and swallowed painfully with a dry throat. It was the   
killing blow. Though he had fought Liliina about framing Crais, this action—  
willfully tampering with a lawful Genetics Directorate order—wrote his own death   
order.  
  
  
"I suppose you have nothing to say, Doctor." Crais smiled viciously.  
  
  
  
"What can I say?" Khetyr spat. "That you managed to break our surveillance   
blocking would mean little in the face of this. . ."  
  
  
  
"This damaging evidence?" Crais finished Khetyr's thought.  
  
  
  
"You obviously want something or you wouldn't have wasted your time   
bringing me here alone." Khetyr countered after a microt. "Is there some magic   
price I must pay to avoid our entire team being court-martialed and executed? If   
it's the betrayal of EL-Vashti, you can forget it. Kill me now."  
  
  
  
"Such brave sentiments," Crais mocked. "And so out of place for a   
Peacekeeper. You sound like a lovesick civilian mooning over his lost mate."  
  
  
  
"Frell you, first-genner!" Khetyr snarled. "You know nothing of loyalty or   
sentiment."  
  
  
  
"Perhaps you're right," Crais replied. "Perhaps that is why I am here in   
these grand quarters, in command of a carrier group and you are there. . .with   
your neck bared for the executioner's sword."  
  
  
  
"I will not betray EL-Vashti," Khetyr repeated.  
  
  
  
"Even if that betrayal meant saving her life?" Crais fairly purred.  
  
  
  
"Don't play with me, Crais." Khetyr snapped. "Spit it out."  
  
  
  
"I thought you and your kind enjoyed prolonging the agony," Crais smiled   
again, that horrible, malignant smile that made him so frightening.  
  
  
  
Khetyr's expression of naked hatred was the only reply.  
  
  
  
"Very well," Crais continued. "These are my terms. One, you will   
administer the injection as requested by Regulator EL-Vashti. However, instead   
of the birth control agent you were concocting to deceive my physicians, you   
will give her a fertility drug. Second, you will also administer a genetic   
enhancer to ensure that our union will produce male progeny."  
  
  
  
"And third?" Khetyr said sourly. "I sense another condition."  
  
  
  
"Only that you are all free to go without fear of repercussions if my   
first two conditions are carried out without delay." Crais concluded. "As a   
matter of fact, you will be leaving immediately after completing these tasks.   
You and your entire team, less EL-Vashti, of course."  
  
  
  
"If I choose not to comply?"  
  
  
  
Crais tapped a button on the remote device and Khetyr's voice resounded:  
  
  
  
  
  
". . .then where will we be? Up on charges? Facing a Tribunal. . .with   
Crais making the accusations? We are not innocent, Lil. We would not survive   
it."  
  
  
  
  
  
"You have my personal guarantee that you will not survive it. None of   
you." Crais said with finality.  
  
  
  
Khetyr's eyes narrowed and he grimaced. If EL-Vashti were to discover his   
complicity she would banish him from the team, or worse. However, the very   
notion of her death on his conscience was a burden he couldn't face. Life for   
all of them with only humiliation for her as the price of this debacle seemed a   
small price to pay. Anyone could live through humiliation, even the arrogant   
highborn EL-Vashti. He nodded slowly, with resignation.  
  
  
  
"Very good," Crais said. "Lieutenant Teeg, escort Dr. Khetyr to our   
medical facility where my personal physician will prepare the injection for   
Regulator EL-Vashti."  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti was practically climbing the walls when Khetyr returned. He   
seemed frightened, his hands trembling as he administered the injection into her   
neck. She looked into his eyes, but he averted his gaze. She knew the notion of   
her being soiled by Crais weighed heavily on him as well. She would do   
everything in her power to wipe it from both their minds when they returned to   
IAD.  
  
  
  
"I'm sorry, Lil" he whispered. "We should've never taken this case."  
  
  
  
"It was a plot by Pollivar to wreck me," she sighed, wrapping her arms   
around him. "But, he won't win. No one can wreck an EL-Vashti."  
  
  
  
Khetyr nearly bit his tongue in half as he held her against him for what   
was probably the last time in his life. She would discover the truth and hate   
him for it. There would be no hope for it and certainly no genetic pairing for   
them in cycles to come. He nearly choked on the emotions he felt but hid them   
from her as she pulled away.  
  
  
  
"The drugs' effects are fast-acting. Even if you progress to intercourse   
during the first session, they will be effective." He informed her as he led her   
to the door of her quarters.  
  
  
  
"Thank you, Jinn." She whispered as she pulled his face to hers, kissing   
him tenderly.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Come," Crais commanded as his personal server helped him into more casual   
attire. His hair was loose about his shoulders and the soft fabric of the ritual   
tunic and trousers was vastly different to his uniform. He sighed and luxuriated   
in their comfort.  
  
  
  
A female Tech officer entered and stood respectfully before his desk,   
awaiting his acknowledgement. She was more than halfway through her term of   
pregnancy and ready for transfer to a maternity unit until after the birth. Her   
back was ramrod straight despite the weight of her large belly, her profile fine   
and proud. The ballooning of the maternity tunic over her abdomen was the only   
thing ruining the perfection of her otherwise delicate frame. Her gingery brown   
hair, boyishly short, was a fitting compliment to her elfin features.  
  
  
  
Crais motioned his server out of the room and stepped down into lower   
level. He watched the officer carefully for a few microts then took a seat   
behind his desk. Their recreation had been so enjoyable over the time they had   
known one another, they chose to yield a child. Unfortunately, it was female,   
dashing his hopes for a second generation upon which to found House Crais. It   
was not the woman's fault. Crais should have investigated her genetic background   
prior to the procreation. His emotions had come into play. Clearly a mistake,   
but one he was now fortunate enough to rectify in an unexpectedly perfect   
manner.  
  
  
  
"You requested me, Captain." She said, ever the professional. It was the   
things he found most attractive about her.   
  
  
  
"Yes," he said softly. "It is obviously time for your transfer to a   
maternity unit."  
  
  
  
"Obviously," she replied, her sad, gray-green eyes glittering as she ran a   
hand over her swollen middle.  
  
  
  
"First, however, I have a very special assignment for you. Something   
outside your normal duties with the Leviathan Division." he said returning her   
smile. "The IAD team—-with the exception of Regulator EL-Vashti—-will be   
returning to their Directorate immediately. I need someone whose loyalty to me   
is beyond question accompanying them. . .to assure their safe passage."  
  
  
  
Her brow creased momentarily. "If that is what you wish."  
  
  
  
"I do," he said looking closely at her abdomen. The growing child within   
kicked mightily causing the uniform tunic to shift a bit.  
  
  
  
She laughed and stroked the area tenderly. "This one is a fighter. Much   
more of this and she'll grow up to be a commando."  
  
  
  
"Perhaps she will seek the command tract," he ventured solemnly as he   
gazed into her face.  
  
  
  
"Perhaps," she agreed. She fidgeted for a microt then said, "Bialar, I'm   
sorry that it is a daughter I carry. I know your desire for a son. . .and why."  
  
  
  
"That is irrelevant at this juncture," he assured her becoming cold, as he   
was often known to do. "The IAD Regulator and I have been paired by the Genetics   
Directorate. Male children are the norm in House EL-Vashti."  
  
  
  
It was the slap in the face Crais intended, but she took the comment as   
stoically as if had he merely announced the time of day. She was strong, this   
lieutenant, a worthy replacement to the traitor Velorek. Pity House Larell   
generally produced a high number of female offspring.  
  
  
  
"Congratulations," she replied smoothly, any hint of jealously or anger   
carefully controlled.  
  
  
  
The doors to his quarters slid aside before either of them could say   
anything further.  
  
  
  
"Your pardon, sir," Teeg said formally, her eyes flitting briefly to Lt.   
Larell. "Regulator EL-Vashti is here under escort."  
  
  
  
The four commandos assigned to bring EL-Vashti to Crais guided her into   
the room and bracketed her where she stood a few paces behind Lt. Larell. She   
glared at Crais with a defiant smile on her lips.  
  
  
  
"As I was saying earlier, Lieutenant," Crais ordered, rising from his   
desk. "You are to escort the IAD team back to their Directorate immediately."  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." She replied stiffly.   
  
  
  
"Very good," Crais said, waving a hand to dismiss her.  
  
  
  
Larell and EL-Vashti's eyes met for only a microt but in that brief   
interval a mutual dislike was obvious.  
  
  
  
"Why are you sending my team home, Crais?" EL-Vashti demanded.  
  
  
  
"Afraid to be alone on my ship, Liliina?" he asked in return, seeing the   
shock and disdain on her face at his use of her given name. He motioned for the   
commandos and Teeg to leave them. "Don't be. I promise to take the very best   
care of you."  
  
  
  
She flinched as his hands gripped her shoulders and his bearded face   
brushed against her neck. He kissed the very spot where Khetyr had administered   
the injection and she felt a rush of gratitude for her lover's intervention.   
While she would be forced to endure the mating ritual with Crais, at least she   
wouldn't sully her good name by having his child. 


	5. Chapter Five -- Vengeance Dance

Chapter Five — Vengeance Dance  
  
  
  
Khetyr stuffed the last of his gear into his jump bag under the watchful   
eyes of Lt. Teeg. She stood quietly near the door to his quarters, arms folded   
across her chest. He knew a commando squad was awaiting him in the corridor, set   
to escort the remainder of the Team to their transport. He still hadn't broken   
the news to the team that they would be leaving EL-Vashti behind. They would be   
distraught, but as helpless as he was to change the situation. The Genetics   
Directorate proclamation was final.  
  
  
  
Khetyr turned a callous gaze on Crais' minion. It was met with the same   
blank expression she always wore and a slight lifting of her right eyebrow.  
  
  
  
"How does it feel to be passed over for your Captain's adversary?" he   
asked her, his voice a knife's blade.  
  
  
  
Her pale eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened.  
  
  
  
"To know he would prefer a mortal enemy to his loyal second as the mother   
of his child?" Khetyr baited her again.  
  
  
  
"How does it feel to know you betrayed your team Leader. . .your lover. .   
.to save your own neck?" Teeg rebutted, expressionless. "I don't envy your   
position when Regulator EL-Vashti learns the truth about her situation. I expect   
she'll find a way to avenge the betrayal, don't you?"  
  
  
  
Khetyr winced and knew she was right. His life would be worthless once EL-  
Vashti knew she was in fact pregnant by Crais. There would be no part of the   
universe, even the Uncharted Territories, which would be far enough to escape   
her wrath.  
  
  
  
"Am I wrong in assuming your captain will apprise her of the full details   
once his goal is realized?" Khetyr asked, knowing the answer.  
  
  
  
"Of course," Teeg replied, smiling slightly and walking slowly toward him.   
"Wouldn't you were the roles reversed? You mistook him for a fool simply because   
he is a first-genner. Stupid, really."  
  
  
  
"Only a first-genner would do something as unspeakable as this," he   
countered savagely.  
  
  
  
"And only a highborn tralk like your Regulator would have assumed Captain   
Crais' guilt simply because she sees him as inferior." Teeg snapped standing   
only denches from him now, her ghostly pale face hard and eyes like daggers   
looking up into his. "An inferior would not be at the head of a command carrier   
group."  
  
  
  
"We were just following the orders of the IAD," Khetyr said trying not to   
flinch from the frosty gaze.  
  
  
  
"And who would have had the mivonks to level such accusations in the first   
place?" Teeg pressed.   
  
  
  
Khetyr spoke knowing it no longer mattered. Nothing mattered now. "Someone   
from the Special Research Directorate."  
  
  
  
"SRD?" asked Teeg.  
  
  
  
"The Scarran half-breed, Scorpius." He admitted. "He approached the IAD.   
We're here at his instigation."  
  
  
  
"Scorpius!" hissed Teeg with the first true emotion he had seen on her   
face.  
  
  
"He went directly to our High Magistrate with his allegations." Khetyr   
continued. "We were assigned outside of normal channels."  
  
  
  
She stared unblinking into his face for several long microts. At last she   
turned away from him and strode to the door.  
  
  
  
"It would be in your best interest not to breathe a word to anyone about   
this or your mission here." Teeg said over her shoulder. "Captain Crais will see   
to it any lapse in security is. . .justly punished."  
  
  
  
Khetyr said nothing further but nodded his understanding.  
  
  
  
"Instruct your team to be ready for departure in one arn," Teeg ordered,   
leaving him to his packing and uneasy conscience.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Khetyr entered the team conference room, saying nothing. The dour look on   
his face spoke volumes. The Techs and server stood dutifully awaiting his   
orders. He bit his lip and inhaled sharply. They were utterly loyal to EL-Vashti   
of course. They would not be tolerated on her team otherwise. Many of them had   
been with her since she came to the Directorate, predating his membership with   
the team by many cycles. This would not go down easy with them. Only their fear   
of repercussions would keep them obedient and silent.  
  
  
  
"Pack your gear immediately," he instructed them. "We're returning to the   
Directorate in three quarters of an arn."  
  
  
  
"Without Regulator EL-Vashti?" asked the Information-Retrieval Tech with   
disbelief.  
  
  
  
"We are under orders from Captain Crais to depart at once." The doctor   
replied. "We are not to discuss this matter further. Understood?"  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." The Tech said respectfully. The others echoed him but the   
expressions on their faces were a mixture of anger and disbelief.  
  
  
  
Khetyr saw this and shook his head in defeat. Could they guess his   
complicity? What would happen if they knew? Just as he predicted before they   
left the Directorate, everything was falling apart. Worst of all was knowing   
Crais not only had EL-Vashti at his mercy, but would sire a despised child on   
her.  
  
  
  
"Frell!" he swore kicking over a nearby table, sending gear slamming to   
the floor.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti stood resentfully in the upper level of Crais' quarters. His   
physician was running a scanner over her as a Medical Tech took blood samples.   
Crais sat nearby on the lounger like a king on a throne, eyes never leaving her.   
The self-satisfied pout on his full lips made her rage flare again. He fully   
understood the humiliation in this for her and was savoring it like a sweet   
candy.   
  
  
  
"She is in excellent health, sir." The doctor informed him, his face   
carefully blank. "Everything is indicative of success."  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti tried not to shudder at the thought of it. She closed her eyes   
and kept her mind focused on getting the ordeal over with.  
  
  
  
"Outstanding," Crais smiled motioning to his server who came forward with   
a bottle of massage oil and appropriate ritual attire for her. "I will call for   
you again when the process is complete, doctor."  
  
  
  
The medical personnel bowed to Crais and departed hurriedly. Crais laughed   
deep in his chest as he crossed his legs and made himself more comfortable on   
the lounger.  
  
  
  
"They must sense my eagerness to begin," he smiled at her.  
  
  
  
"Spare us both, Crais," she snapped murdering him with her gaze. "Just   
let's get down to it and be done."  
  
  
  
Crais nodded to his server who began to carefully undress EL-Vashti. She   
averted her eyes as he watched. The hands, so accustomed to tending Crais'   
needs, revealed her pale, softly muscular form. Rounded shoulders, long neck,   
pert peach-sized breasts, narrow waist and very long and shapely legs. She heard   
Crais sigh with appreciation.   
  
  
"Pity we got off on the wrong foot," Crais purred. "You suit me in so many   
ways."  
  
  
She shuddered at the blatant sexuality of his tone.  
  
  
The server motioned for her to lie upon her back on the massage table. He   
reached into a bowl of ritual oil on a nearby table, rubbing a liberal amount   
between his large palms. Beginning with the pressure points on her feet, he   
stroked, pressed and vibrated each with consummate skill. EL-Vashti wished it   
were anyone besides Crais so that she could enjoy the sensuous preparations for   
the ritual. She closed her eyes and silently thanked her lover again for saving   
her from the ultimate disgrace of Crais' child.  
  
  
  
Having their roots in ancient Sebacean culture, the massage and ritual   
served to stimulate ovulation in the female. The primitive herbal aphrodisiacs   
originally used had long ago been replaced with hormonal stimulants and   
aromatheraputic scents that achieved the ultimate goal, conception. It could be   
an ecstatic experience for both participants. It was also said to achieve its   
deepest effects in those couples who were long-term mates.  
  
  
  
Crais sighed audibly again as the server moved to EL-Vashti's breasts,   
kneading and circling them expertly until even the darker areolas shone with oil   
in the dimmed lights. Her lips were pressed together as she fought her own   
natural response to such stimulation.  
  
  
  
"Impossible not to enjoy it, eh Liliina?" he said silkily. "Our race has   
spent thousands upon thousands of cycles perfecting it."  
  
  
The server, having completed the massage, helped EL-Vashti to her feet.   
She was slightly unsteady as he began to dress her in the ritual clothes; a   
soft, close fitting tank top and gauze-like skirt whose hem brushed the tops of   
her bare feet. Once finished, the server gathered his tray and left silently.  
  
  
  
Crais roused himself from the lounger and came toward her. EL-Vashti's   
gaze was like venom. He circled quietly, never touching her, only nodding his   
approval. Her long legs could be seen in the slits that ran from groin to hem in   
the wispy black material. The pale flesh against the dark cloth was a delicious   
contrast.  
  
  
"It suits you," he whispered at last.  
  
  
  
He motioned her toward the bedchamber. After a long silence she walked on,   
Crais following a pace behind.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Get that gear stowed! We're leaving now." Lt. Larell ordered one of the   
IAD non-coms. "Don't make me say it another time."  
  
  
  
"Don't order my team personnel, Lieutenant." Khetyr barked as he came   
around the transport to the boarding ladder. "They are IAD and not in your chain   
of command."  
  
  
  
"Understood, sir," she replied snapping to attention. "I am merely trying   
to keep to the timetable set by Captain Crais."  
  
  
  
"I understand that, Lieutenant, but I will not have my people abused by a   
Tech," Khetyr retorted before boarding the transport.  
  
  
  
Lt. Larell blinked at the blatant insult, but took it for what it was. She   
boarded the ship behind him. Obviously the team physician was more than a little   
displeased by the pairing of Crais and the Regulator. Like all Peacekeeper   
pairings, it meant little in the long run. She took none of it very seriously,   
though she had to admit she'd truly wanted a son for Crais' sake if for no other   
reason. It meant so much to him, this founding a House, almost as much as his   
brother.  
  
  
Tauvo Crais was coming within a day or two to take command of the prowler   
divisions. That would improve his mood considerably. So would a son by the IAD   
Regulator.  
  
  
  
Lt. Larell shook off such thoughts. Her relationship with Crais was a   
close one. This pairing with EL-Vashti would do nothing to harm it. She walked   
onto the command of the transport, quietly passing on instructions from Crais to   
the pilot. She positioned herself in the empty navigator's seat beside him,   
finding she had to adjust the restraint straps to allow for her large belly. Her   
usually tight, serious face brightened with a smile. She was genuinely pleased   
with the pregnancy. Something maternal was blossoming in her. She hoped it would   
not be the only child for she and Crais.  
  
  
  
"Your first birthing?" Khetyr asked as he came into the flight area.  
  
  
  
"You should not be here, Doctor." She informed him disdainfully.  
  
  
  
"I won't touch anything important," he assured her as he strapped himself   
into the seat behind hers.   
  
  
  
When she did not answer him, he pressed her. "I asked you a question,   
Lieutenant."  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir," she replied pretending to be preoccupied with the pilot's   
movements. "It is my first."  
  
  
  
"Genetics Directorate pairing?" he asked.  
  
  
  
"No, sir." She answered. Her suspicious nature sounded alarms in her   
brain. She tried to keep her body relaxed, but her nerves were jangling. Where   
was he going with this?  
  
  
  
"Accident?"  
  
  
  
"No, sir?"  
  
  
  
"Well, that is irregular." He observed charmingly.  
  
  
  
"Pardon me sir, but why do you ask?" she said turning awkwardly to look at   
him.  
  
  
  
"Professional curiosity."  
  
  
  
"As a physician or an IAD Agent?" she countered more sharply than she   
intended.  
  
  
  
He laughed revealing a smile filled with perfect white teeth. He was being   
deliberately provocative with her and it made her flesh crawl.  
  
  
  
"Both perhaps," he said finally.  
  
  
  
"Am I under any suspicion?" She asked her voice more under control, as the   
marauder rose up and out of the Mhultaan's docking back.  
  
  
  
"Everyone is under suspicion."  
  
  
  
"Is that the IAD motto?" she shot back, shifting with the angle of the   
ship as they banked into their new heading.  
  
  
  
"If not it probably should be don't you agree?" he said flashing his   
toothy grin at her once more.  
  
  
  
"Not to be disrespectful but, is there a direction you are heading with   
this, sir?" she asked point-blank as she watched the Mhultaan recede in the rear   
viewer on the pilot's console. Its engines engaged and it swiftly became   
indistinguishable from the surrounding stars.  
  
  
  
"Perhaps I'm only making polite conversation, Lieutenant." He said just as   
flatly. 


	6. Chapter Six -- Hunger and Suspicion

Chapter Six — Hunger and Suspicion  
  
  
  
  
Crais stood at attention flanked by lieutenants Teeg and Orn in the   
Mhultaan's docking bay. Squads of commandos were positioned to the side of them.   
All wore their best battle dress uniforms. No one had seen this type of event   
since the inspection visit by Admiral Menkena two cycles before. It was highly   
irregular, but considering the author of its instigation, no one would dare   
speak against it.  
  
  
  
All eyes focused on the single prowler landing before them as it eased to   
a stop. Crais drew his breath in sharply and took three steps forward as the   
fighter's canopy popped up and slid aside. He made a quick motion to the prowler   
divisions' boson who lifted an electronic pipe to his lips. It emitted a pattern   
of shrill sounds as the new arrival was piped aboard. The pilot strode forward   
purposely, removing his helmet and handing it to a waiting server as he stopped   
before Crais.  
  
  
  
"Officer Tauvo Crais reporting for duty, sir," the young pilot said,   
saluting with arm to chest then smiling broadly. "Captain's bars suit you, my   
brother!"  
  
  
  
Crais stepped forward and embraced his brother unselfconsciously. It had   
been six cycles since they last saw one another. His heart was breaking at the   
separation. He did everything in his power to secure Tauvo's transfer to the   
Mhultaan. Crais personally promoted him to Leading Duty Officer for the carrier   
group's prowler divisions despite poor performance evaluations from his previous   
command. It was prejudice, pure and simple. No one wanted a first-genner to   
succeed at anything.   
  
  
  
Tauvo was a gentle soul with little ambition to do more than fly prowlers.   
He was not aggressive, not driven and would never crush his competition   
underfoot to advance. He was very much like their mother, or as dim memories   
recalled her in the Bialar Crais' dreams. He, on the other hand, was a brutal   
and unrelenting. He was bound and determined to shove himself down the throats   
of the very system that stole he and his brother from their beloved home.  
  
  
  
"Come, my brother, we will share rasklak and swap stories in my quarters."   
Crais said throwing his arm around Tauvo's shoulders and guiding him out of the   
docking bay.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
It was just as Khetyr suspected. Crais fathered Larell's unborn child. His   
surreptitious genetic scans proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt. This   
knowledge, in conjunction with the fact that she'd been a mere Tech on the   
traitor Velorek's team before Crais promoted her, started the wheels turning in   
his mind. He had to find a way of regaining EL-Vashti's trust and love again. If   
he was lucky, this might just be the key.  
  
  
  
Why would Crais spare this one Tech when he had the remainder of Velorek's   
team executed? Even the commandos were killed save the transport pilot, Officer   
Sun. Crais did nothing by halves.  
  
  
  
He accessed the sealed records, finding that Larell was promoted to the   
rank of lieutenant and reassigned as leader of the Leviathan project team the   
very day Velorek was arrested. Surprising, but not totally unheard of,   
especially in cases of treason where so many heads rolled. During the IAD   
inquest, her testimony was short and to the point: Velorek betrayed Crais and   
the project. Her loyalty as a Peacekeeper demanded that she report his   
treasonous activities. Her testimony was corroborated by the transport pilot and   
both lived to benefit from Crais' questionable largesse.  
  
  
  
Khetyr suspected something else not even mentioned in the sealed records,   
but he couldn't put his finger on it. What was it? And why would a respected   
officer such as Crais decided to willfully produce offspring outside a Genetics   
Directorate pairing? It couldn't be love, he reasoned. Men like Crais were   
incapable of the emotion. As a first-genner serving in a fleet filled with noble   
born officers, Crais would never be a slave to any emotion save ambition. It was   
his life's blood and the breath in his lungs.  
  
  
  
So, why Darinta Larell? The thought would not let him rest. She was no   
beauty and certainly not of high birth. Her family was a forgettable,   
impoverished Sebacean House on one of the core planets. Nothing. She was even   
older than Crais by several cycles. With thousands of women to choose from   
aboard the Mhultaan, why had Crais singled out this one for his favors?  
  
  
  
He lay sprawled across his narrow bunk on the IAD transport. He was still   
in his uniform and unshaven after three days' journey. He was tired but would   
not let himself sleep. Sleep only brought dreams of EL-Vashti. Thoughts of her   
tormented his soul.  
  
  
She was a woman no one knew. Not truly at any rate. They saw what she   
wished them to see: her pride in her House, her coldness, cunning and intense   
ambition. No one save himself knew the tender side of Liliina; the softness that   
made him love her with absolute devotion.  
  
  
  
He would not willingly lose what they shared. He knew in his heart were   
they not Peacekeepers, not IAD, but simple civilians with control over their own   
lives they would be married. They would have a passel of children and a   
relationship deeper than anyone could possible imagine. Duty would forever   
prevent this, but he would not, could not let go of the relationship they did   
share.  
  
  
  
Staring at the ceiling of his small chamber his resolve was set. He knew   
what he would do to make EL-Vashti forget his compliance with Crais' revenge. It   
would call for an act he would've never considered before. An act that would   
mean his death if it was discovered.   
  
  
  
"Better dead than without you, Lil," he whispered as he rose and prepared   
himself for the task ahead.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Isn't she magnificent, Tauvo?" Crais asked as they stood over the   
sleeping EL-Vashti.  
  
  
  
She was lying on her stomach, draped over his wide bed in obvious   
exhaustion. Her long black hair fanned over the pillows in disarray. Bruises and   
bite marks covered her pale skin on shoulders, the nape of her neck, her back   
and buttocks. The younger brother took in her exposed body with one long glance   
filled with yearning.  
  
  
  
"Sensational!" he whispered. "For the love of Cholok, Bialar. Wherever did   
you find her?"  
  
  
  
"Commanding an IAD team planning to mount my head on a jinka   
pole," he confided leading his brother out of the bedchamber  
  
  
  
"That explains the bruises then," Tauvo said, his tone filled with   
disapproval. "You've beaten her haven't you?"  
  
  
  
"Of course not," he sighed sitting down heavily on his lounger. "It would   
go against the traditions of the mating ritual. I did, however, let her feel my   
righteous indignation at her efforts to destroy me. Repeatedly."  
  
  
  
"Bialar, you've changed," Tauvo said quietly as he sat beside his brother   
and clapped a hand affectionately on his knee. "And not for the better."  
  
  
  
"Don't scold me little brother," Crais replied with a smile and a gentle   
pat to his brother's hand. "This is the good fortune I've been waiting for all   
my life. Do you know who she is?"  
  
  
  
"No idea," Tauvo replied hoarsely after choking on a sip of rasklak.   
  
  
  
"She is the daughter of Admiral Neleu EL-Vashti," he said, his smile   
turning sinister and his eyes very bright. "A daughter of the Founding Four. A   
noble born in every sense of the word."  
  
  
  
"How the satra were you ever selected to procreate with someone so high in   
station?" Tauvo asked in utter disbelief, turning a hard look on his brother.   
"We have no name, no House. We're . . .first-genners. By tradition and law,   
first-genners are never allowed to procreate with any member of the Founding   
Four!"  
  
  
  
"Almost never. You would be surprised the people I know at High Command   
and the Genetics Directorate," Crais responded opening a fresh, hot rasklak and   
pouring them each a cup.  
  
  
  
"With growing fear, I don't believe I would be surprised." Tauvo said   
unhappily. "You have become even harder than the last time I saw you, Bialar.   
Harder than father ever was."  
  
  
  
Crais was up off the lounger and pacing across the room at that statement.   
He knew in his heart that his cruelty came from his father. He did not like   
hearing it from his younger brother, however.  
  
  
  
"I have this terrible dread that you've lost touch with any sense of   
honor, my brother. Any sense of kindness." Tauvo said, brow furrowed in   
disappointment.  
  
  
  
"I can handle everyone's disapproval but yours, Tauvo." Crais said sadly.   
"Let's not quarrel after so many cycles apart. Besides, you're missing the point   
of this entire conversation: a male child from this mating will mean a second   
generation for our family in Peacekeeper service. It will mean House Crais."  
  
  
  
"At what price?" Tauvo whispered shaking his head and putting his cup   
aside.  
  
  
  
"Brother, please." Crais said, going down onto one knee before his   
brother, his face filled with earnest longing for Tauvo's approval. "It will be   
a small step in avenging our forced servitude with the Peacekeepers. Can't you   
see that? I did it for the both of us. For father and mother. For everyone the   
Peacekeepers have ever stolen from their homes and families."  
  
  
  
Such an admission was wormwood, obvious treason. Tauvo sighed audibly,   
looked into his brother's dark eyes and forced a smile. He had always been   
embittered by their recruitment into Peacekeeper services. Sometimes it seemed   
the only thing that drove him. He was a textbook nerfer despite his core of cold   
hatred.  
  
  
  
Bialar was doggedly stubborn, even as a small boy. He remembered the   
beatings Bialar would endure from their father for shirking his work in the   
orchards. He would lie under a tree by their stream half the day, watching the   
patterns of light in the leaves and dreaming of Gods knew what.  
  
  
Once Tauvo had sneaked away and joined him. They both came back to the   
village long after dark to face their father's terrible wrath together. He   
seemed ten metras tall and his face was red with fury. Bialar placed himself in   
the unenviable position of being between them as their farther swung his wide   
belt. He met it, never crying out or flinching. He took the blame and defended   
his younger brother even as the edge of the belt drew blood. Late that night   
however, when he thought everyone was asleep, Bialar wept. Tauvo heard the tiny   
sounds his brother made in the bed next to his and he cried, too.  
  
  
  
"I'm happy for you, Bialar," he said embracing his brother with a heavy   
heart. "Happy for what you're doing for our family."  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Lieutenant Larell felt the twinge again as she shouldered her jump bag and   
climbed down the steps of the marauder. She paused for a moment, biting her lip.   
It was becoming more than a twinge. It was genuinely painful. Though she'd never   
before been pregnant, she had a growing feeling of alarm. This couldn't be   
normal. She breathed deeply and it passed. Stepping onto the tarmac of the   
Directorate's landing field she straightened and the pain came again. She winced   
visibly and dropped her jump bag.  
  
  
  
"Lt. Larell, are you alright?" asked Khetyr as he took her by the arm.  
  
  
  
"Pains," she grimaced. "Since two solar days ago. They started out as mild   
cramps but are now becoming more severe."  
  
  
  
"This could be serious." He said as he motioned the Team server to take   
her jump bag. "Has there been spotting?"  
  
  
  
"It started eight arns ago." She replied fighting the pain as it grew   
worse with every stride.  
  
  
  
"Help me get Lt. Larell to my clinic." He commanded his leading Medical   
Technician.  
  
  
  
"You don't think anything is wrong with my baby, do you sir?" she asked,   
her childish voice growing higher in pitch.  
  
  
  
  
"That's what we're going to find out, Darinta." He soothed, putting his   
arm around her waist and supporting her weight as they left the landing field.  
  
  
  
She looked at him with surprise, his use of her given name totally   
unexpected, then quietly relented and allowed herself to be helped along into   
the ground shuttle.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Just relax and breathe deeply, Darinta," Khetyr said as he gently probed   
her bare abdomen with his fingertips. "That's it. Long deep breaths. Easy now."  
  
  
  
He motioned for the Medical Tech to administer a muscle relaxant. Lt.   
Larell's body tensed as the medicine was injected into her neck then visibly   
slackened. Her breathing became deeper and the expression on her face more calm.   
The Medical Technician helped her into a lab gown. It was far too large for her   
delicate frame, rumpling around her on the exam table.  
  
  
  
"I'm going to scan the fetus now so please remain absolutely still,"   
Khetyr ordered, softly stroking her short hair.  
  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
  
  
Khetyr moved the device over her swollen abdomen watching the indicator   
lights intently. The fetus's life signs were ebbing rapidly. If it could be   
saved, he would have to deliver it immediately. He looked into her face and   
frowned. Turning his back to her, he placed the scanner on the supply counter.   
He selected a drug bottle from his pharmacopoeia, drew the correct amount into a   
syringe and handed to his Technician.  
  
  
  
"Darinta, your baby is in trouble." He explained quietly, face only   
denches from hers. "My Technician is going to administer a labor inducing agent.   
If she can be saved, I have to deliver her immediately. Do you understand?"  
  
  
  
Her gray-green eyes were wide with fear and bright with what Khetyr   
suspected were tears. He took her hands in his and helped her to stand up. The   
Tech pressed a control switch and the exam table morphed into a birthing chair.   
Khetyr eased her gently back down and helped place her bare feet into the   
stirrups. She self-consciously arranged the lab gown around herself as Khetyr   
applied anti-microbial agent to his hands, her genitals and thighs.  
  
  
  
"Since this is your first birthing, I want you to listen carefully to   
everything I tell you and follow my instructions to the letter. Understood?"   
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." She said between clenched teeth. The contractions were already   
beginning.  
  
  
  
"The drug my Tech is giving you now will deaden the worst of the pain, but   
you will feel a great amount of pressure as the baby passes through the birth   
canal." Khetyr instructed as he inserted three fingers in order to assess her   
dilation.  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir," she replied trying to breathe.  
  
  
  
"Dilation is optimal. Good." He told the Tech.  
  
  
  
She looked at the bright red blood on his hand and gaped fearfully at him.  
  
  
  
"The blood. . .is that. . .normal?" she said between panting breaths.  
  
  
  
"You don't need to worry about that," Khetyr assured her. "My Tech is   
administering an agent now that will suppress the bleeding. Just keep calm and   
keep your breathing focused."  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir." She said with a grimace. "I need to bear down."  
  
  
  
"Not yet!" Khetyr commanded. "In a few microts, when I tell you, then you   
will need to push will all your strength. Sustain that pressure until I say to   
stop. Understood?"  
  
  
  
"Understood, sir."  
  
  
  
She could feel the blood now as it poured over her genitals and onto the   
birthing chair. Even she knew this was not a good sign. Khetyr looked into her   
anxious face and gently patted her abdomen.  
  
  
  
"Not long now, Darinta." He soothed. "Not long at all."  
  
  
  
She bit her lips hard and grunted. Exhaling noisily she barked, "I need to   
push now."  
  
  
  
"Now, Darinta." He instructed her, taking her hands in his. "Bear down   
now. Push, push, push, push, push, push, push."  
  
  
  
Lt. Larell cried out with the effort and forced downward with all her   
strength. Even through the ringing in her ears she could hear her own blood   
hitting the floor beneath the chair. She pushed the thought of death aside. It   
didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the birth of a healthy child for Crais.  
  
  
  
The Medical Tech had taken her hands from Khetyr and was holding them   
tightly. Khetyr raised the birthing chair higher until it was in perfect   
position for him to catch the emerging infant. Larell screamed as the baby's   
head crowned.  
  
  
  
"Keep pushing Darinta, I see her head." He ordered, his fingers coiling   
around the tiny scalp.  
  
  
  
She complied though the dizziness was increasing and she was struggling   
for breath. She watched between her legs as the head began to appear. Tears   
welled in her eyes as the baby slid out fully in a gush of fluid and blood.   
Khetyr quickly suctioned her nose and mouth then the expression on his face   
changed drastically.  
  
  
  
"My baby," she said her voice no more than a hoarse whisper. "I want to   
hold my baby."  
  
  
  
"She's not breathing Darinta," Khetyr said turning away with the infant in   
his arms.   
  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
  
Lt. Larell listened in a daze as the two men bent over her newborn,   
working furiously to resuscitate it. Lowering her legs painfully she tried to   
get out of the birthing chair. She fell back nearly fainting from the loss of   
blood.  
  
  
  
"Please let me see my baby," she pleaded, her childlike voice punctuated   
by sobs.  
  
  
  
Khetyr and his Tech worked on for nearly half an arn before turning away   
from the tiny form, so purple and motionless on the supply counter. Finally,   
Khetyr motioned for his Tech to leave. He came toward her with a look of sadness   
on his face.  
  
  
  
"We were unable to revive the child, Darinta." He said slowly. "Still   
births happen, even with our advances in technology. I'm sorry."  
  
  
  
"My baby," she whispered. "I want to hold her."  
  
  
  
"She's dead, Darinta."  
  
  
  
"It doesn't frelling matter," she swore trying to rise from the chair once   
more.  
  
  
  
"Don't move," he commanded. "The coagulation agent has finally worked. I   
don't want you to start bleeding again."  
  
  
  
"Please,"  
  
  
  
Khetyr sighed and looked at her with a mixture of emotions on his tired   
face. He finally turned back to the counter and took the limp form into his   
hands. Mouth compressed into a thin line, he handed the dead infant to her   
mother.  
  
  
"May I be left alone, sir?" she asked hoarsely.  
  
  
  
"Of course," he replied. He touched her shoulder gently before walking out   
of the exam room.  
  
  
  
The baby was so tiny, she thought as she shifted the miniscule weight into   
one hand. She opened the front of her lab gown and placed the baby against her   
bare breasts. She had dreamed of this since the first microt she and Crais had   
decided to procreate. The one instant in their lives when they would have   
physical contact with one another as mother and daughter. Her small body was   
already growing quite cold. She stroked the tiny head, still covered with drying   
patches of her own blood.  
  
  
  
Tears poured over her face and she screamed, "Bialar!" 


	7. Chapter Seven -- All's Well That Ends We...

Chapter Seven — All's Well That Ends Well  
  
  
  
  
Regulator EL-Vashti let the cool water of the shower flow over her sore   
body. She scrubbed her skin vigorously under the watchful gaze of Crais'   
commandos. His revenge was a harsh reality beyond her worst nightmares. She was   
under guard around the clock, never permitted a microt alone. She was not   
allowed the simple dignity of bathing or even relieving herself without a   
commando escort. She would have his mivonks skewered and roasted over a bonfire   
for this, she vowed as she soaped and rinsed her aching genitals for the tenth   
time.  
  
  
  
Though mild and respectful during the ritual, Crais became a ferocious   
beast when they actually copulated. Of the dozens of men and women she had   
recreated with since she was 14 cycles old, no one had ever savaged her in the   
manner Crais did. Disregarding her discomfort, he bit, pinched and rammed into   
her with every ounce of his hatred and contempt. He drew blood frequently but   
pounded along like an automaton. Her body carried the bruises, whisker burns,   
and angry red bite marks to prove it.  
  
  
  
In his presence she suffered her degradation and pain with stony resolve.   
She wouldn't give him the pleasure of hearing her cry out or seeing her weep.   
Nothing more than a wince had she surrendered to him when he brutalized tender   
skin repeatedly. She was of the Founding Four. She would show this dren-eating   
first-genner what dignity was.  
  
  
  
She stepped out of the open shower stall, looking with disdain at the   
pulse rifles aimed at her. What did they think they would do with weapons if she   
attempted an escape or harmed herself? Shoot her? Crais would have them flayed   
alive. Besides, even if she were able to conceive, no Peacekeeper would harm an   
unborn child. It was anathema.   
  
  
  
If a child was proven incompetent or genetically defective, it would be   
euthanized on its sixth birthday, as was tradition in Peacekeeper ranks. A   
helpless fetus was never put at risk.  
  
  
  
She laughed condescendingly at the guns and idiotic grunts that held them.   
They looked at her, then at one another assuming she must be mad. She knew what   
was running through their minds as she peered at herself in the full-length   
mirror. Her battered body gave the impression of having been through a battle.   
Even the corner of her bottom lip was split thanks to one of Crais' bites. She   
smiled indifferently as she ran a comb through the tangles of her wet hair.  
  
  
  
One more day and she would be free to return home to the Directorate and   
Khetyr. Free to plot her revenge against Crais and Pollivar. She mentally built   
the fire over which to roast Crais' mivonks and sharpened the jinka pole that   
she'd mount Pollivar's head upon. With a quiet laugh, she turned her back to the   
commandos and slipped into her clothes.  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Officer Crais' prowler is returning from the Leviathan, Captain." Teeg   
informed him, not looking up from her console. "He reports there was a minor   
incident with the Luxan prisoner, but that it was quelled immediately. All   
prisoners are now secured and the new complement of guards posted as ordered."  
  
  
  
"Excellent," Crais responded as he straightened his uniform jacket and   
smoothed his already perfectly coifed hair. "With that taken care of, I leave   
command to you, Lieutenant."  
  
  
  
"Of course, sir," Teeg replied.  
  
  
He could feel her eyes on his back as he strode from the command core.  
  
  
He could also feel his heart beating faster with every step. By the time   
he reached his quarters it seemed as though it would leap from his chest. He   
smiled with exultation to see his physician waiting for him and EL-Vashti as   
well, still bracketed by her commando escort. It was the true moment of victory   
he'd been waiting for.  
  
  
Humiliating and brutalizing her had been mere foreplay before the main   
event. Seeing the realization on her face that she was pregnant with his child   
and her lover responsible for it held satisfaction beyond anything sexual.   
She represented everything he secretly hated about Peacekeeper society. This   
would be a coup de grace far grander than the impregnation of the Leviathan. It   
would not garner him the Admiralty, but the remuneration it offered his battered   
soul was inestimable.  
  
  
  
"Well, doctor. Are we ready?" He said smoothly as he sat down behind his   
desk.  
  
  
  
"Of course, sir." His physician replied.  
  
  
  
The doctor produced a scanner from his kit and stepped toward EL-Vashti.   
Her face was molded into any icy, smug glare. It was obvious she did not even   
remotely suspect her fate. She still believed her lover had saved her. He   
chuckled soundlessly as he watched her.  
  
  
"Sorry about the bad news, Captain." She purred, her eyes like two burning   
embers. "We can't have everything we want."  
  
  
  
"Shall we let my physician decide whether the news is good or bad. . .and   
for whom?" Crais smiled placidly in response. "Doctor?"  
  
  
  
"The scan is conclusive, sir," he answered. "Regulator EL-Vashti has   
successfully conceived and the offspring is male."  
  
  
  
For a microt she knew she heard wrong or that it was a trick. Khetyr had   
given her the birth control drug. It was foolproof. She could not have   
conceived.  
  
  
  
"Stop this charade, Crais." She said, a tightness growing in her throat.  
  
  
  
"Oh, I assure you it isn't a charade, Liliina," he replied, venom hiding   
just behind his dazzling smile. "You have conceived. You are carrying my child.   
My son."  
  
  
  
"That is not possible!" EL-Vashti snarled as she broke away from her   
commandos. She strode to his desk and leaned across it with her face only   
denches from his.  
  
  
  
"Why?" Crais blinked innocently up at her. "Because your lover gave you a   
drug to prevent it?"  
  
  
He watched as her eyes widened and she began to realize the worst. A cold   
sweat beaded her forehead and her entire body trembled.  
  
  
"I'm afraid I couldn't let Dr. Khetyr give you the birth control agent."   
Crais explained sweetly. "I convinced him it would be in his best interest to   
give you a conceptual stimulant instead. He mixed in a genetic enhancer as well.   
. .to assure you'd have a male offspring."  
  
  
  
He watched as the truth of it sank in and delighted more in the emotional   
pain he saw on her face than any he had inflicted on her body.  
  
  
  
"He was quite helpful actually," Crais continued, his tone a serpent's   
strike. "He acted as any true Peacekeeper would, recognizing where his loyalties   
best lie."  
  
  
  
"You scheming thoddo!" EL-Vashti shrieked, lunging over the desk bent on   
wrapping her hands around his throat.  
  
  
  
He leaned back, signaling the commandos who were on her in a microt. They   
dragged her away from him kicking and cursing. Crais watched and laughed harder   
than he had in cycles. An aristocratic EL-Vashti reduced to a spitting, cursing   
wretch by a common first-genner. You could cut yourself upon the irony of it   
all, he mused. He was glad the monitors in his quarters were capturing this   
display. He would want to watch and relive it for many cycles to come.  
  
  
  
"You see, Liliina, your mistake was in assuming the inferiority of a   
commoner." He explained helpfully. "High Command and the Genetics Directorate   
found me of some value. Pity you did not."  
  
  
  
She hurled more curses at him, all the while struggling to be free of the   
commandos' grip.  
  
  
  
"So much for breeding," he observed with cool disdain.  
  
  
  
"I'll see you dead for this you trog!" she vowed. "Dead and your body   
ripped to shreds!"  
  
  
  
"I don't have time for this," Crais sighed. "Take her out of here. See   
that she is under guard at all times until she is put into the custody of the   
maternity unit on Kordaen."  
  
  
  
He looked down at the assortment of transparencies on his desk completely   
ignoring EL-Vashti as she was dragged away. His mission accomplished, he would   
never have to think of her again accept as an amusing aside.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
Within three arns of being taken from Crais' quarters, Regulator EL-Vashti   
was on a marauder heading back to the Directorate. She was in magcuffs and   
lying prone on the bunk in her miniscule cabin. Crais' physician had given her a   
sedative and she fought its effects by biting the inside of her bottom lip. The   
taste of her own blood on her tongue was bitter, metallic.   
  
  
  
Could it be true? Did Khetyr deliberately betray her? If so, why? How did   
Crais force him into it? Her mind was becoming hazier by the microt. The drugs.   
She had to fight them. Had to think. What could Khetyr possibly get from an   
alliance with Crais? Surely he knew there would be nowhere he could escape her   
revenge. She had the power to have him executed or banished. Could Crais protect   
him from that?   
  
  
  
Two cycles of her life with him, her most intimate thoughts and emotions   
his for the asking, his for the taking. What could Crais have offered to him   
that he would turn his back on all they'd shared? She would find out, even if   
she had to tear Khetyr's still-beating heart from his chest and eat it.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"She's been drugged, Scorpius," said a female voice from somewhere far   
off.  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti tried very hard to open her eyes but the room was so bright it   
made her brain ache. She felt an ampoule thrust between her lips and a warm   
bitter fluid flow onto her tongue. A gloved hand was roughly patting her cheek   
as she gagged and tried to sit up. Failing this, she turned her head to one side   
and vomited until nothing came up from her roiling stomach.  
  
  
  
A cold wet rag was pressed against her throat and the heaving stopped.   
Daring to open her eyes again, the shape of a woman bending over her coalesced.   
She was tall, silvery pale with long red hair and golden eyes. She was not   
Sebacean that much was for certain, EL-Vashti decided as she closed her eyes   
again and drifted into the blessed state of unconsciousness.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
"Her status, Niem?" Scorpius asked softly, his arms crossed over his chest   
as he looked down at the sleeping IAD Agent.  
  
  
  
"Severely dehydrated," the woman replied. "Also still suffering the   
effects of over-medication. And. . ."  
  
  
  
"And?" Scorpius prompted turning to face his aide.  
  
  
  
"She's pregnant," the woman replied. "Genetic scans indicate the father to   
be Bialar Crais."  
  
  
  
The Scarran half-breed hissed as he spun back to the unconscious IAD   
Agent.  
  
  
  
"I send her to destroy him and this is what she accomplishes?" he growled.   
"I should strangle this duplicitous tralk where she lays."  
  
  
  
"Scorpius," Niem warned softly.  
  
  
  
"I know, I know." He replied angrily as he strode from the room.  
  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in the bed. She had   
been dreaming of her last moments with Crais and the horror of it all came   
rushing back to her. She shuddered and touched her abdomen gingerly. A child by   
that zannet was growing insider her.  
  
  
  
"Welcome back to the living," said Niem from across the room. "You've been   
unconscious for nearly three days."  
  
  
  
"Where the frell am I?" rasped EL-Vashti. "And who the frell are you?"  
  
  
  
"She is my aide," Scorpius answered as he entered the room. "You are   
aboard my private courier."  
  
  
  
"Why?" she whispered unable to speak louder through her scalded throat.  
  
  
  
"Why is she my aide, or why are you aboard my ship?" Scorpius asked in his   
torturously soft voice.  
  
  
  
"Where are Crais' commandos? The marauder?" she said, barely audible.  
  
  
  
"They've been. . .reassigned." he replied.  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti shook her head and rubbed her eyes painfully.  
  
  
  
"Oh, I can assure you, Regulator EL-Vashti, you are not dreaming this," he   
said coming to sit on the edge of the bed.  
  
  
  
She recoiled from his nearness and he spared her a wounded look. She   
responded with an expression of pure loathing. Scorpius smiled and patted her   
leg tenderly. Then before her mind could grasp what was happening, his long,   
spidery fingers were wrapped around her throat. All air to her lungs was blocked   
and her head sung with razors and broken glass.  
  
  
  
"I should crush your high born neck between my fingers like a twig for   
what you've done!" His voice a deep, Scarran growl. "You were sent to destroy   
Crais, not recreate with him!"  
  
  
  
Just as she was certain he would make good his threat, his hand slipped   
from her throat and she fell against the bed with a resounding thud. Rubbing the   
tender skin she tried to sit up but lacked the strength. She coughed until she   
nearly vomited again.  
  
  
  
"You came highly recommended, you know." Scorpius said softly, a complete   
contradiction to his beastly tone only microts before. "Magistrate Pollivar sung   
your praises most eloquently."  
  
  
  
"I'm certain he did," she finally managed to croak at him.  
  
  
  
Scorpius cocked his head and considered her silently for a few microts.   
  
  
  
"That had a distinct ring of disrespect in it, my dear." He observed   
flatly.  
  
  
  
"Oh, I'll have a great deal of respect for that frellnik once I mount his   
head on the wall of my office," she groaned covering her stinging eyes with her   
forearm.  
  
  
  
"Perhaps I've missed something here," Scorpius said as he returned to sit   
beside her, the slick, cold material of his environmental suit pressing against   
her bare leg. "Please enlighten me. What has Magistrate Pollivar done that you   
long for his death so vigorously?"  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti laughed, a hollow and bitter sound. Never moving her arm from   
over her eyes she spoke, "It was a set up, from the very beginning. A no-win   
situation. He knew I would be caught between Crais. . .and you. If I failed to   
get a confession out of Crais, you would destroy me. If I succeeded in smearing   
his good name, Crais would destroy me. The old grolash never had the mivonks to   
kill me himself. He had to sit around waiting for someone to do his dirty work   
for him."  
  
  
  
"Why would he seek to destroy you, child?" Scorpius asked incredulously.  
  
  
  
"I am not the most popular Agent at the Internal Affairs Directorate. What   
a surprise, yes?" she replied, dripping sarcasm. "I'm quite certain at this   
point in my life that I am the only Peacekeeper with more enemies than even   
Bialar Crais."  
  
  
  
"It is not easy being an outsider, is it?" Scorpius ventured. "Your status   
as a member of the Founding Four makes you as much a pariah as. . .myself."  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti lifted her arm from her eyes and gaped in incredulity at him.  
  
  
  
"Listen, Scarran. . ."she protested only to find Scorpius' icy, gloved   
fingers pressing painfully against her split lip.  
  
  
  
"Now, now Regulator," he caution in a ludicrously effeminate voice. "Keep   
a civil tongue in your head. . .or you will force me to rip it out."   
  
  
  
She gritted her teeth, her elegant jaw set hard as stone, then nodded her   
agreement.  
  
  
  
"It still remains to be explained why you would go from rabid investigator   
to falling, legs agape, into Captain Crais' bed." Scorpius said stroking her   
cheek softly.  
  
  
  
She murdered him with her eyes but remained silent.  
  
  
  
"It is surely not standard IAD procedure to frell your victims into   
submission and then bear them children," his fingers tightening around her chin.  
  
  
  
Her eyes went wide at that pronouncement and she gasped.  
  
  
  
"My aide found out when she was scanning you," he admitted sweetly. "Now,   
this begs the question: will you explain this mystery to me or will I need to   
take you to my Gammak base and put you into the Aurora chair?"  
  
  
  
"You needn't bother going so far out of the way." EL-Vashti retorted   
tersely. "We have them at the Directorate and I'm positive Pollivar would be   
delighted to offer his assistance."  
  
  
  
"Again with conspiracies, my dear." Scorpius scoffed. "Aren't we being a   
bit paranoid?"  
  
  
  
"I think you're operating under the false assumption that I give a krag's   
ass about Crais," EL-Vashti spat. "Consider this your formal invitation to   
witness me roasting his mivonks over an open fire as soon as I'm done parading   
Pollivar's head around IAD Square."  
  
  
  
"Such hatred in one so young," Scorpius teased, clicking his tongue at   
her.  
  
  
  
"Listen you freak," she hissed as she swiped his hand away from her face.   
"You are the one responsible for setting this disaster into motion!"  
  
  
  
"Temper, temper." He warned dangerously.  
  
  
  
"Frell you and your bizarre sense of humor," she snapped.  
  
  
  
She slid to the end of the bed and lifted herself unsteadily to her feet.   
Staggering toward Niem, she motioned for a glass of water from the woman.   
Scorpius' aide provided it quickly and wordlessly. EL-Vashti drank it down   
greedily and motioned for more. As Niem poured, the Regulator turned an icy   
stare on him.  
  
  
  
"How much do you know, beyond the fact that I'm pregnant?" she asked   
before downing the second glass of water. "How did you find my transport?"  
  
  
  
"We've been monitoring message traffic in and out of the Mhultaan."   
Scorpius explained. "Breaking your coding was surprisingly easy. When your   
marauder emerged from Crais' ship, we remained hidden until sure of its   
departure. We then came to your. . .rescue."  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti spared him a harsh look before continuing.   
  
  
  
"Then you should know Crais pulled in favors from his cronies at High   
Command and the Genetics Directorate." She said. "What? You didn't actually   
believe I would willingly bear the child of a first-genner, did you? Perhaps our   
code is easily broken, but you didn't break his did you?  
  
  
  
"As painful as it is to admit, the zannet outwitted me," she sighed   
acrimoniously. "Just when I thought I had him, a message came in from Admiral   
Menkena overturning the investigation, clearing Crais' name and assigning us for   
procreation."  
  
  
  
"Admiral Menkena of the First Council," Scorpius mused. "He is more   
powerful than I ever imagined."  
  
  
  
"Not more powerful," EL-Vashti corrected. "He just has more powerful   
allies. He's obviously whored himself and sold his soul a million times over.   
How else could a first-genner be in command of the Mhultaan carrier group?"  
  
  
  
"Point well taken," Scorpius smiled. "Pray continue."  
  
  
  
"There is little else to say. . .beyond reiterating my intentions to slay   
both Pollivar and Crais," she replied. "As soon as I am relieved of this. .   
.embarrassment."  
  
  
  
All three looked at her still slender midsection.  
  
  
  
"And have you a plan for this bold undertaking?" asked Scorpius, his tone   
like syrup.  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti spared him a harsh glance before collapsing into a nearby chair.  
  
  
  
"In that case, might I offer my assistance to you?" Scorpius purred with a   
deadly smile. "Even though you proved insufficient to your original task, you   
may yet have a use."  
  
  
  
"And what makes you think I would ally myself with an abomination like   
you, Scorpius?" she countered.  
  
  
  
"You should keep in mind that you will not be pregnant forever." He said,   
his voice as unpleasant as a death rattle. "While I cannot harm you now. . ."  
  
  
  
The implied threat hung in the air between them and she knew it was very   
real indeed. She swallowed hard and glared at him for many microts.  
  
  
  
"Scorpius," Niem interrupted. "We're entering orbit of Kordaen. The main   
landing field tower is hailing us."  
  
  
  
"Request permission to land," Scorpius instructed his aide.  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti inhaled sharply and shook her head. Reality was closing in all   
around her. She was returning home in disgrace to face Pollivar's gloating and   
Khetyr's treachery. Her head was about to explode into tiny shards and the water   
was sitting hard on her stomach.  
  
  
  
"It is a generous offer, my dear." Scorpius said as the ship settled onto   
the landing field. "It is also one that will not be open indefinitely." 


	8. Chapter Eight -- Bitter Resolution

Chapter Eight — Bitter Resolution  
  
  
Lieutenant Darinta Larell stepped carefully out of the marauder.   
Slinging her jump bag over her shoulder, she walked slowly from the   
docking bay. Her heart was heavy as she made her way to her quarters to   
drop off her things. She sat upon her bed for more than an arn, hoping   
some meaningless task would come to mind. Anything to postpone the time   
when she would be forced to face Crais.   
  
What would she tell him about their daughter's birth? How would   
he react? It would be a bitter pill to swallow if he sloughed her off   
as he did all this other sexual conquests. She thought of Teeg's   
tortured longing. Gripped by a deep sense of emptiness, she dreaded the   
encounter to the bottom of her soul.  
  
She felt the protests of her empty stomach and made her way to   
the nearest officers' dining hall. She was paying no attention as she   
entered, jolted back to reality only when someone ran into her. She looked up   
into a face she'd only seen as a holo-image. Tauvo Crais. He smiled brightly and   
helped steady her with both hands.  
  
"My apologies, lovely lady." He said smartly. "I don't believe   
I've had the pleasure."  
  
"Lieutenant Darinta Larell." She replied stiffly. "I'm assigned   
to the Leviathan research division. You're Captain Crais' brother   
aren't you?"  
  
"Bialar has told me about you." he said politely. "How did the   
birthing go?"  
  
  
She averted her gaze and swallowed hard.  
  
"Your. . .brother. . .Captain Crais has spoken of you often." She   
replied self-consciously, not answering his question. Could this   
actually be the long-awaited younger brother? The differences were like night   
and day.  
  
"All good I trust." He laughed softly.  
  
"Very good, indeed." She replied, an incredulous smile on her own   
face. His gentle kindness was infectious.  
  
"I was only stopping off here for a quick drink before joining   
him for dinner," Tauvo said extending a hand to her. "I'm certain he   
wouldn't mind your charming company. It could only enhance the   
experience."  
  
"I really shouldn't, Officer Crais." She said formally.  
  
"None of that!" he smiled. "I insist."  
  
Lieutenant Larell nearly recoiled at the thought of seeing Crais   
again with his brother present but said nothing. She followed him   
without taking his hand. As they made their way through the crowded,   
winding corridors, he talked incessantly about his plans for the   
prowler squadrons, his experiences aboard his last command carrier and   
his brother. Bialar this. Bialar that. It was obvious the younger Crais   
idolized his brother.  
  
As she listen to his animated dialog it occurred to her that she   
had probably chosen the wrong brother. This idea was driven home like a   
knife through her heart as they entered Crais' quarters together. The   
expression on his face upon seeing her was frosty at best. Disdain   
lurked behind those dark eyes.  
  
"Look who just arrived, my brother." Tauvo fairly crowed. "I   
literally ran into her as she was going in to the level 37 officers'   
mess. I invited her to join us for dinner instead."  
  
"That would not be appropriate," Crais said flatly.  
  
"Bialar," Tauvo began only to be interrupted by the elder.  
  
"Officer Crais," he snapped. "Please give us this room alone for   
a few microts."  
  
Tauvo's smile wilted as he looked with hurt and disapproval at   
his brother. He clicked his heels together smartly, bowed and left.  
  
"I'm sorry, Captain," she explained, eyes cast downward. "He was   
insistent."  
  
"The birthing?" Crais ventured noting her flattened abdomen. "It   
was far too early."  
  
She breathed and looked at him with eyes bright with pain.   
  
"The child. . .um. . .our daughter," she stammered then fell   
silent.  
  
"Spit it out, Lt. Larell!" he snapped harshly.  
  
"She was stillborn." She said simply.  
  
Crais sat silently staring at her for many long microts.  
  
"You are dismissed, Lt. Larell," he said at last returning his   
attention to the transparencies on his desk.  
  
"Bialar?" she whispered.  
  
"Lt. Larell," his tone sent a jolt of pure terror down her spine.   
"You are dismissed."  
  
The door to his quarters slid open admitting a familiar face. Lt.   
Larell and Officer Sun made brief eye contact.  
  
"My apologies, sir," the newcomer said standing stiffly at   
attention just inside the room. "You requested my presence."  
  
"Yes, Officer Sun." Crais said, a charming smile brightening his   
face. "I wish for you to join my brother and I for dinner. He tells me   
you are the best pilot in your division."  
  
The beautiful young woman was obviously moved by such praise. Lt.   
Larell looked at her, a feeling of dread gnawing at the pit of her   
stomach.  
  
"Lieutenant," he said, his voice more harsh than she'd every   
heard it. "Dismissed."  
  
He wouldn't meet her gaze.  
  
"Sir," She said before biting her lower lip. She spun on her heel   
and left him to his newest conquest.  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
EL-Vashti saw Khetyr approaching on the monitor screen and   
shuddered. He spoke briefly with her aide in the outer office before   
being admitted. She tried not to look at his face, the wide hazel eyes,   
bow-shaped lips and mild shadow of a beard. If she looked at him,   
seeing him as the beloved companion of the last two cycles she would   
not seek the answers she so desperately needed.  
  
"Lil," he said softly, standing in front of her desk. "How are   
you? I've been worried sick. The main registrar posted that you'd   
arrived home two days ago."  
  
"I'm in perfect health according to Crais' physician," she   
replied harshly. "Yes, I did come back 2 days ago. I needed time to   
myself, however. I needed to think things through."  
  
He winced and bit his lip. "I've missed you."  
  
"Have you now?"  
  
"Lil," he sighed, then the words began to pour forth in a rush.   
"Crais had a surveillance device secreted in my uniform. He had records   
of everything. Everything we did. Everything we said. He could have had   
us all executed with the evidence on those recordings. I was captured   
by commandos and brought to him in restraints. He said that if I   
cooperated, if I gave you the conception enhancer and said nothing, he   
would let us all go unscathed."  
  
"Unscathed!" EL-Vashti hissed, slamming her palm down hard on the   
top of her desk. She pointed to her abdomen. "Is this unscathed?"  
  
"Lil, he was going to kill you," Khetyr rebutted.  
  
"Don't be stupid, Jinn!" she shouted. "He wanted to sire this   
child on me. He would never have killed me."  
  
"You can't know that," he yelled back. "You weren't there when he   
confronted me."  
  
"I didn't need to be," she snapped bitterly. "I have had intimate   
experience with what that trog is capable of. Getting this child for   
his precious House and humiliating me utterly was his plan you vigilar.   
He wouldn't have killed me even if I destroyed his entire command   
carrier armada and herd of Leviathans!"  
  
Khetyr gulped and frowned at her.  
  
"I'm sorry, Lil," he said quietly. "Please let me make amends."  
  
"You're sorry?" she mocked. "An amends. You could never   
compensate me for what I've been through at his hands."  
  
"Don't be so certain," he smiled wildly. "I've done something to   
hurt him, to regain your honor. Something even he wouldn't have thought   
to do."  
  
"What are you babbling about?"  
  
"Darinta Larell," Khetyr said quietly, leaning across her desk.   
"The Tech from the traitor Velorek's team, the one Crais promoted to   
lieutenant and put into Velorek's post. She was Crais' lover. Did you   
know that? I turned it over and over in my mind after I found out.   
And she was pregnant, as well. By Crais! Not by accident. Not a genetic   
pairing. They chose to procreate!"  
  
"Is there a plot to this fairy tale?" EL-Vashti scoffed.  
  
"I knew you would want to avenge what Crais did to you," he   
smiled as he came around the desk to kneel beside her. He took her   
hands in his and continued, "And I knew you would blame me when he told   
you the truth about how it happened. So. . .I acted for you."  
  
"What do you mean?" EL-Vashti asked, a sick feeling at the back   
of her throat. He wasn't behaving normally. His eyes were feral, his   
lips wet with spittle.  
  
"I killed it," he whispered with a little laugh.  
  
"What?" she demanded, her voice catching in her throat.  
  
"I poisoned Lt. Larell's fetus. It was stillborn." He bragged   
shaking her hands gleefully. "I delivered it myself—ever the caring   
physician—so that neither of them would ever suspect."  
  
He was insane, she was certain of it. No Peacekeeper would harm   
an unborn child. The penalty was slow torture and an even slower death.   
She could not, would not be a party to this. Her mind raced over the   
alternatives as she tried to extricate herself from his grasp.  
  
"Lil, no!" he pleaded, holding on tighter. "Say you forgive me."  
  
Her resolve was set. She looked down at him, her face a gentle,   
loving mask.  
  
"Of course I forgive you, Jinn." She purred as she slipped her   
arms around him.  
  
  
"After everything we've been through together, I knew you would."   
He replied burying his face in her neck.  
  
"How could you ever doubt it?" she smiled coldly as she saw their   
reflection in the shiny surface of her office walls.  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
The wind tugged fitfully at her great coat as EL-Vashti crossed   
IAD Square heading toward the Visiting Officers' Quarters. Tendrils of   
her long hair were pulling loose from her tight queue and sticking to   
her face. Sleet was beginning to fall and the temperature was dropping   
fast. The wet season was settling in with a vengeance on Kordaen. In a   
matter of arns, there would be a thick coating of ice on everything not   
protected from the elements.  
  
  
She paused for a several microts looking up into the freezing   
rain to clear her head. There would be no turning back from this. It   
was a commitment that would last until death. Were she to ever back   
down, there would be nowhere to hide from her unspeakable fate. Closing   
her eyes she inserted her ident-chip into the panel beside the main   
entrance. It emitted a series of beeps and the door in front of her   
slid aside.  
  
She removed her small, black garrison cap and gloves, tucking   
them into the belt of her great coat. She ignored the concierge at the   
main desk, slipping down a side corridor. Finding the billet number she   
was searching for, she pressed the chime beside the door only once.   
Within a microt it slid aside. It was obvious she was expected.  
  
"Do come in, dear." Scorpius' voice called to her out of the   
darkness. He did so prefer the dark. "The weather has turned quite   
vicious outside has it not? Please, make yourself comfortable and enjoy   
a steaming rasklak."  
  
"Spare me your tender ministrations, Scorpius," she said   
bitterly.  
  
"You do not appreciate being treated with tenderness, my dear?"   
he teased as he elevated the illumination in the room. He motioned her   
toward a lounger beside him.  
  
Niem appeared from an alcove, placing a hot cup of rasklak into   
her frigid hands. She disappeared just as quickly.  
  
"He killed a fetus," she said quietly looking him in the eyes for   
the very first time. She was beyond repulsion or fear of irreversible   
contamination. She was beyond caring.  
  
"What?" Scorpius asked cocking his head as he returned her gaze.  
  
"Khetyr," she explained after taking a long draught of the potent   
beverage. "He found out one of Crais' officers was pregnant by him. .   
.and he poisoned the fetus causing it to be stillborn."  
  
"Ghastly," Scorpius sighed. "So now you know where your   
allegiances do and do not lie."  
  
"With great trepidation. . .yes." she whispered.  
  
"Glorious," he smiled patting her knee affectionately. "We will   
begin immediately."  
  
"You're going to kill Crais, Pollivar and Khetyr?" she asked   
closing her eyes and finishing the rasklak. Her stomach was empty and   
she could feel it already going to her head.  
  
"Crais will prove to be a ticklish problem," he admitted.   
"However, Pollivar and Khetyr will not live to see another sunrise."  
  
"I want to be there when Khetyr dies," she said, her voice a   
monotone. "I want him to know where his death is coming from."  
  
"Easily arranged," Scorpius replied. "And do you wish it to be a   
lingering, painful death or quick and merciful."  
  
"I want him to experience more terror than he ever thought   
imaginable," she whispered icily.  
  
"As you wish." He said as he stretched his long, spindly legs out   
in front of his lounger. "Come to my ship in four arns. Everything will   
be arranged."  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
Magistrate Tolan Pollivar raised the collar of his uniform great   
coat more snuggly about his neck. He positioned his garrison cap on his   
balding head and stepped out into the frigid night air. He normally   
enjoyed the brisk walk to his quarters, but the unforgiving wind   
whipping across IAD Square made that impossible this night. He walked   
gingerly, but as quickly as the icy sidewalk would permit, nearly   
losing his balance several times.  
  
He rounded the corner near his billet block and noticed footfalls   
behind him. Faint and nearly drowned out by the howling wind, but still   
he knew someone was following him. He glanced briefly over his shoulder   
and saw the indistinct figure of a woman a distance behind him. Her   
cloak rippled in the wind as she turned down an adjacent street.  
  
He inserted his ident-chip into the level riser panel and waited   
for it to arrive. He rubbed his hands together and stamped his feet to   
keep warm in the relentless gale. The doors opened and he stepped   
quickly inside. As he punched in his billet code, a stinging tightness   
wrapped around his neck. A monofilament garrote was rapidly cutting off   
his oxygen. He struggled against his unseen attacker but was rapidly   
losing consciousness. His feet were slipping and sliding beneath him as   
the level riser shot upward.  
  
He fumbled with desperate fingers for the face of his assailant,   
but could not gain a grasp. Finally, as the level riser reached the top   
of his billet block, it stopped with a jolt. He lost his footing and   
hung by his full weight from the garrote. As he fought to remain   
conscious he felt himself begin dragged out of the riser and into a   
corridor. It was utter blackness around them. He could not be certain   
if it was his brain dying or that all lights had been extinguished   
prior to this attack.  
  
He heard the whine of the level riser as it reversed itself and   
fell rapidly downward. As the last of his life drained away he sensed   
he was falling forward and air rushing up to meet him. His heart burst   
as he landed atop the level rise seventy-eight floors below.  
  
From far above, Niem looked down at her handiwork. No one would   
have survived that fall, she thought silently. The non-marking garrote   
would leave no evidence, Scorpius assured her. It would be investigated   
and the case closed on a tragic accident.  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **   
  
  
  
Khetyr tumbled out of bed naked and stunned at the sound of   
commando boots in his bedchamber. Before he could cry out a rifle butt   
smashed into his face. He shrieked and teeth fell from his bloody   
mouth. Survival instinct the only thing left in him beyond terror, he   
scrambled along the floor like an animal. Getting to his feet in the   
corridor of his billet block, he began to run faster than he ever had   
before in his life.  
  
The commandos were behind him as he escaped out into the night.   
His bare feet hit the ice-covered pavement and he went down hard.   
Crying, gasping for breath and choking on his own blood, Khetyr   
struggled to his feet and ran again. He made it to the corner and down   
a narrow street before he felt the sharp stab in the nape of his neck.   
He'd been shot with an anesthine dart and the drug was now spreading   
through his cerebrospinal fluid and brain. He would have only microts   
to find a place to hide before he lost consciousness.  
  
"Lil," he cried out as he dove behind a waste receptacle. His   
skin stuck instantly to the wet ice on the ground and he found himself   
trapped. Commando boots rang out in the night as they came closer to his   
pathetic hiding place.  
  
  
"Lil!"  
  
  
  
  
** ** ** ** **  
  
  
  
When he awoke, Khetyr found himself completely immobilized. He   
fought to free himself only to have water splash up into his face. He   
choked and coughed.  
  
"Good, you're awake," EL-Vashti said softly.  
  
"Lil, what's happening?" he yelled fighting again only to be   
rewarded with another mouthful of water.  
  
"An amends, my love." She answered.  
  
"What!" he shrieked.  
  
"I would remain still if I were you," said another voice,   
frightening even in its gentleness. "You will live far longer if you   
remain perfectly still."  
  
"Lil, what is happening? Why are you doing this?" he shouted then   
swallowed more water.  
  
"My colleague, Scorpius, devised this manner of death for you,   
Jinn." El-Vashti explained coming closer to the isolation tank. "I must   
admit it is truly the most unique manner of death I've ever seen."  
  
"Lil, stop this now!" Khetyr pleaded. "Please, release me from   
this thing."  
  
"It's quiet simplistic, really." She went on as though she had   
not heard him. "In case you've not figured it out, you are wrapped in a   
stasis cocoon. The brilliant part of course is that it has been   
manipulated to leave your face exposed.   
  
"As anyone knows, a stasis cocoon has a great deal of buoyancy,   
but it will not float forever. They have this horrible flaw of   
gradually absorbing liquids, which is why a crash landing on a water   
planet is always dreadful when you have a shipload of patients in   
stasis. But, you know that right, my love?  
  
"At any rate, my colleague came up with the notion of putting   
your cocoon into an isolation tank filled with just enough water to   
saturate it and still leave a high enough level to allow you to drown.   
. .ever so slowly. A just reward for your betrayal, I would say." She   
explained.  
  
"Most just, Magistrate EL-Vashti." Scorpius said as he came to   
stand behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders.  
  
"Of course it can never repay the life of the fetus you   
murdered, you vigilar!" she hissed with finality.  
  
Scorpius switched off the comm in the stasis cocoon and escorted   
EL-Vashti out of the chamber, his arm lightly draped around her   
shoulders.   
  
What little light in the isolation tank faded to black and Khetyr   
began to scream. His own breathing was loud in his ears and water was   
splashing up his nose and into his mouth. The air in the tank began to   
turn bad quickly and he sensed the cocoon dropping lower in the water.   
Before long it was above his mouth and tickling icily at his nostrils.   
  
Images of the entire debacle with Crais flashed through his mind.   
He remembered his words of warning to EL-Vashti the day they departed   
for their journey to the Mhultaan.  
  
  
  
"I've heard of Bialar Crais." Khetyr said. "He's very powerful   
and popular with the Admiralty and High Command. So is Scorpius;   
prominent scientist with the SRD and all that dren. How the satra do   
you think he's tolerated by High Command otherwise? Talk about   
irreversible contamination! This has the probability of landing us all   
on the torture table."  
  
  
  
  
  
He saw her face, soft and white contorted in ecstasy beneath him;   
glowing with a cruel smile as she worked. He did not flinch as the   
water reached his nostrils. Instead he cried out her name. He then   
breathed in sharply through his mouth allowing his lungs to fill with   
water. 


End file.
